Harry Potter and the High Sorcerer
by Orion Scorpio
Summary: [DISCONTINUED] Beneath the star of Sirius, Harry swore that he would stop Voldemort no matter the cost. Never again would he allow evil to hurt those he cared for! Harry's eyes burned in the night, and all those green orbs revealed... was death.
1. OWLS! OWLS! OWLS!

_Orion Scorpio presents:_

_(despite the urgings of the Vatican)_

  


**Harry Potter and the High Sorcerer**

  


**Chapter 1: "OWLS! OWLS! OWLS!"**

  
The wind howled through the streets of Little Whinging, making the trees move in the darkness like silent giants. It played with the hair of a boy who was standing right outside Number 4, Privet Drive, and made his too-large clothes flap as if to blow away his anger and sorrow. The attempt was futile, however, as Harry Potter hardly noticed.

His brilliant green eyes searched across the starlit sky, looking for that one particular star he remembered from his Astronomy classes. Searched, and found.

"Hello, Sirius," Harry whispered. The star burned bright this evening.

He had been back with his uncle and aunt's house for only a week, and the anguish still threatened to tear his heart apart. Sirius Black, the closest he had ever had to a brother and a father, was dead - because of him. Why, oh why, did he have to be so incredibly stupid to let himself walk straight into Voldemort's trap? As always when he thought of what had happened in the Department of Mysteries rage erupted in him. A seething rage that consumed every thought and emotion. And as always the rage left him hollow and apathetic when it burned itself out.

But not anymore. Tonight it would end.

It was Harry's mere existence that put his friends in danger, that made his friends get hurt or killed. However, even if Harry were to disappear overnight, the killings and the torture would continue. His friends would never be safe until Voldemort was stopped. There was only one solution to the problem: If the prophecy demanded him to be a weapon, then by all the fates and gods in existence he would become one!

Beneath the star of Sirius, Harry swore that he would stop Voldemort no matter the cost. Never again would his friends die! Never again would he allow evil to hurt those he cared for! Harry's eyes burned in the night, and everything those green orbs revealed... was death.

* * *

"OWLS! OWLS! OWLS! HARRYYYY!"

The sound of his uncle's bellow, not so unlike a raging elephant, was more than enough to startle Harry out of sleep. He sat up in the bed yawning, surveying the mess in his room. Books and parchments lay scattered everywhere and a pile of dirty clothes was in the corner. Harry sighed and got out of bed. One month ago, right after he swore to keep his friends safe, he had sent Hedwig to Flourish & Blotts and ordered the books necessary for NEWT Charms, Transfiguration, Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts as well as a few others. Although he doubted he'd received a good enough grade to take NEWT Potions, he had begun studying them anyway during the summer to get a head start - he had taken his vow very seriously. Besides, it wasn't as if he had anything better to do.

He picked up _The Art of Occlumency_ and flipped through a few pages. Unfortunately, the author had made it very clear that it was impossible to learn Occlumency from any book. A teacher was required no matter how talented you were. However, Harry had been practising some of the more basic exercises, and learned enough to know that high stress and lack of proper practise carried much of the blame for his poor success rate with Snape.

"HARRY!" The door banging up brought Harry out of his musings. Mr Dursley stood in the opening with a face that had an interesting shade of purple and with the well-trained vein on his temple pulsing franticly. "Owls!" he snapped. "In the kitchen! Get down _now!_" And then he whipped around and marched down the stairs again.

Harry shook his head and began to get dressed. His uncle had been more irritate than usual this last week - of course, that might have something to do with Harry having made a habit of reading the _Daily Prophet_ at the kitchen table. The sight of moving pictures in the Dursleys' otherwise quite normal kitchen had to play hell with his uncle's nerves.

Harry walked into the kitchen a few minutes later to find that instead of the usual single owl, there was no less than five of them waiting for him on the kitchen table. Mr Dursley had buried himself in the newspaper in an attempt to ignore them - evidently without much success since he was reading it upside down. Mrs Dursley was glaring at them out of the corner of her eye, as they might assault her any minute. Dudley for his part tried to shield his cornflakes bowl from hungry owls that wanted a taste.

"Harry, get these crazy birds of yours!" he shouted as Harry walked in. "They're eating my breakfast!"

Harry chuckled at him. He doubted his cousin would die of starvation any time soon, although most of his fat had been transformed into muscle during the last couple years. Harry's heart suddenly jumped as he recognized Pig, Ron's owl. He had been so busy studying that he'd forgotten that today was the July 31st - his birthday.

The first owl carried the _Daily Prophet_ as he had expected. Harry paid it five Knuts and sent it on its way, then put the newspaper aside to read later. Snatching Pig out of the air, he untied the letter he carried and read:

_Happy birthday, Harry!_

_How are you doing? Sixteen at last! I hope the Muggles are still treating you well (if they aren't, just remind them of the conversation my dad had with them)._

_No, my arms do not hurt anymore from those brain-things I ran into in the Department of Mysteries, and the marks are finally gone, too. So don't worry about it, you hear?_

_As for Percy - the git! - he still hasn't come home. I can't believe him; even Fudge has publicly admitted that You-Know-Who is back, but Percy is still walking around with his nose in the air. Dad tried to speak to him at work, but Percy just ignored him!_

_Anyway, your birthday present is waiting for you here at-_

_Sorry, Moody is looking over my shoulder as I'm writing this, and he won't let anyone tell where we are in plain text. It's that place with a crazy painting in the Entrance Hall._

_Hermione is here, too. Hope to see you soon, mate._

_Ron_

Harry didn't dare to even let his thoughts consider what kind of place that had a 'crazy paining in the Entrance Hall'. Doing that would mean letting his thoughts venturing down a dangerous path. He suppressed the memory and the pang of loss he felt, and opened the letter with Hermione's handwriting on:

_Happy birthday, Harry!_

_Hope you don't mind waiting another day for your birthday present. Lupin says that they will pick you up soon and bring you here to-_

_Sorry, Harry. Moody is censoring everything I write and he won't let me tell you where Ron and I are at the moment in case the owl is intercepted._

_No, my chest isn't aching anymore. Those potions I got took care of it, so don't you worry._

_Have you gotten your OWLs yet? Because Ron and I haven't. I guess they have been delayed due to all the uproar in the Ministry, and all. I wish they could hurry up. This waiting is killing me._

_Sincerely,  
Hermione_

Harry put Hermione's letter down with a grin. Trust her to worry about OWLs when she was guaranteed O's in every subject! Opening the third letter he saw it was from Lupin:

_Hi, Harry,_

_Congratulations on your sixteenth birthday! Wish I could say that in person, but I have work for Dumbledore to do._

_Anyway, we are sending someone from the Order to pick you up tomorrow at noun, so be ready then. Let's hope you won't hex my hair blue like your father did when_ he _turned sixteen..._

_Remus._

Harry let out a delighted "Yes!" as he read this. Away from the Dursleys! That was the best birthday present they could have given him, even if it meant going back to - the jolt of sorrow and helpless anger alerted him that he was coming too close to the dangerous thought. He forced it out of his mind and composed himself.

"Um, Uncle Vernon?"

Harry's uncle grunted behind the newspaper (still upside down).

"A few friends of mine is going to pick me up tomorrow at around twelve, and I'm going to spend the rest of the summer with them."

Mr Dursley lowered his newspaper and glared at him. "Which one of them?"

Harry glanced down at the letter. "It doesn't say."

"Well, it better not be that chap with the crazy eye," he grumbled and disappeared behind the newspaper again.

Harry had to struggle in order to hide his smile as he opened the fourth and last letter. Tonks, Lupin Mad-Eye and Mr. Weasley had all had a little 'chat' with the Dursleys at the end of his last term. Actually, they had told them in no uncertain terms that treating Harry badly would be a huge mistake. That Lupin had dropped by a few times since then 'just to say hello' only served to reinforce that impression. However, Harry's smile vanished as he began reading his last letter:

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Enclosed are your results for Ordinary Wizarding Levels. Please choose a minimum of five and maximum of eight subjects to attend at the NEWT level. We will await your owl with your decisions no later than 25th August._

_Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

Harry gulped. This was what he had been dreading all summer. While he had managed to convince himself that he had at least passed in most of the subjects, Harry was fairly sure that he hadn't gotten a good enough grade in Potions to take the NEWT course. That would spell the end of his dream of becoming an Auror, since NEWT Potions was a required subject. With a hammering heart he folded out the enclosed parchment.

_OWL results for Potter, Harry James:_

_**Charms (theoretical):** Outstanding._  
_**Charms (practical):** Exceeds Expectations._  
_**Transfiguration (theoretical):** Exceeds Expectations._  
_**Transfiguration (practical):** Exceeds Expectations._  
_**Defence Against the Dark Arts (theoretical):** Outstanding._  
_**Defence Against the Dark Arts (practical):** Outstanding._  
_**Herbology:** Exceeds Expectations._  
_**Potions (theoretical):** Outstanding._  
_**Potions (practical):** Outstanding._  
_**Care of Magical Creatures:** Exceeds Expectations._  
_**Astronomy (theoretical):** Exceeds Expectations._  
_**Astronomy (practical):** Acceptable._  
_**Divination:** Dreadful._  
_**History of Magic:** Poor._

_Total OWLs Possible OWLs: 12 14_

_Possible NEWT subjects: Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy._

_The Wizarding Education Board wish you luck in your future endeavours._

Harry goggled at the list. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected, but it definitely wasn't this. _"Potons?"_ he thought in disbelief. _"I got an 'O' in Potions?"_ An 'O' in theoretical Potions he might have been able to accept since the advanced question was about Polyjuice, but _practical?_ Harry shut his eyes, shook his head a bit and looked down on the parchment again. No, it still read: _"**Potions (practical):** Outstanding."_

Slowly a grin spread over his face. This meant that he still had a chance of becoming an Auror! _"Poor Snape. He'll probably have a stroke when I show up in his NEWT class."_ Scanning his other grades more carefully he saw that he had gotten an 'O' in practical Defence Against the Dark Arts. _"Hm, that must be due to the extra credit the examiner mentioned for conjuring up a Patronus,"_ he thought with pride. The rest of his OWLs were more or less as he had expected. He had failed in Divination and History of Magic, but that was no big loss. History of Magic was immensely boring, and Divination was... well, Divination. The 'A' in practical Astronomy was probably due to being distracted by Umbridge's cowardly attack on Hagrid.

Still grinning, Harry put down the parchment and folded out the _Daily Prophet_, ignoring the half-strangled sound coming from his uncle. The headline on the front page quickly captured his interest:

_**Former High Inquisitor on trial**_

  
_More than twenty parents have sued Dolores Jane Umbridge, former Special Assistant to the Minister of Magic, former High Inquisitor, and former Headmistress on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for causing their children bodily harm. Mrs. Umbridge is charged for subjecting the students in question to a Dark Arts object known as a 'Blood Quill' during detentions. A Blood Quill cuts anything written with it into the hand of the user, and then heals the wound. Repeated use will still leave scars, however._

_"It's scandalous!" Mr. Jordan says. "Here I send my son to Hogwarts in the belief that he will be kept safe, only to discover upon his return that one of the teachers has forced him to cut 'I will not lie' into his hand! Just what on earth was Minister Fudge thinking, making her High Inquisitor?"_

_Headmaster Dumbledore was unfortunately not available for comment, but Deputy Headmistress McGonagall agreed to answer a few questions:_

_"Were any of the faculty aware of that Mrs Umbridge subjected students to a Blood Quill?"_

"_Certainly not! Under normal circumstances a Blood Quill would never even have been have been allowed inside the walls of Hogwarts. Unfortunately, we never suspected a Ministry-approved professor would have such an object."_

_"Is it true that Harry Potter, the famous Boy Who Lived, were also punished with a Blood Quill for no other reason than sticking to his story of how You-Know-Who had returned?"_

_"That is correct."_

_Minister Fudge refused to see the journalist from the_ Daily Prophet...

Harry smiled grimly as he flipped through the rest of the article while rubbing the faint marks on the back of his hand. If there was anyone who deserved a few years in Azkaban, then it was Umbridge. He hadn't forgotten how she had nearly used the Cruciatus Curse on him. Harry forced his thoughts away from the dangerous path. Thinking about Umbridge would make him think of the Department of Mysteries, which in turn would make him think of... he shook himself and turned the page.

A few pages later he was surprised to find a moving picture of Justin Finch-Fletchley grinning back at him.

_**An army of students**_

  
_During the time Mrs. Umbridge taught Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts there was apparently quite a few students that was dissatisfied with her teaching methods. The former professor refused to let her students perform actual magic but merely to read the theory behind it, something which would have left them woefully unprepared for their OWLs._

_It was Hermione Granger of Gryffindor that came up with the solution; the students would form a study group outside of class where they'd work to prepare themselves. This group, jokingly named 'Dumbledore's Army', was soon outlawed by Mrs. Umbridge who was the Hogwarts High Inquisitor at the time. However, the meetings continued in secret throughout the year, until one of the members betrayed the group._

_What is particularly interesting is that the leader and teacher of these students was no one else but Harry Potter himself. With Mr. Potter's past it shouldn't come as a surprise that he is the best student in Defence Against the Dark Arts in fifty years, and is even able to teach older students._

_"His talents within the subject is exceptional," Mr. Lupin says, who is a former professor at Hogwarts. "He master charms and jinxes that many fully qualified wizards have problems with. The Patronus Charm is a wonderful example of such."_

_Justine Finch-Fletchley of Hufflepuff agrees. "Without the DA I'm sure I would have failed Defence Against the Dark Arts, and instead I got an 'Outstanding' OWL!"_

_Indeed, the vast majority of the fifth-years Mr. Potter taught achieved an 'Outstanding' OWL, while only two received an 'Exceeds Expectations'. For comparison, none of the non-members managed anything more than 'Acceptable'. And if this isn't enough proof of Mr. Potter's teaching skills, two of the members were also able to conjure a corporal Patronus by the end of the year..._

Harry smiled with pride. With everything that had happened before the summer, he had forgotten to ask how the DA members did during their examinations. Evidently they had succeeded beyond his wildest expectations. _His_ students!

Harry paged through the rest of the _Prophet_ looking for articles regarding Voldemort, but soon threw the newspaper down on the table in disgust. Judging from what he had read this past month, Cornelius Fudge was more interested in keeping people calm and hanging on to power than actually taking precautions. Voldemort for his part seemed to be lying low for the time being. Oh, there was the occasional report about an Auror getting killed - usually heavily downplayed by the Ministry - but not the terrible things Harry had expected; waves of Death Eaters and Dark Creatures spreading terror all over the UK, murders and abductions every single day, the Dark Mark hovering over wizarding homes...

_"Stop thinking about that!"_ Harry reminded himself sternly for the hundredth time that summer. It was bad enough having nightmares about what Voldemort might do; he didn't need to let his thoughts venture down that path when he was awake, too.

Harry quickly finished his breakfast, gathered his letters and the Daily Prophet, and went back up to his room. He had work to do. Dropping everything on his bed, Harry looked around at the books that lay scattered all over the room. While he couldn't actually practice magic without risk getting expelled from Hogwarts he could at least learn the theory behind it.

Although whether he would ever be able to defeat Voldemort was an open question, Harry would keep his friends safe - no matter the cost. With a sigh he picked up a pile of parchments - Potions notes, his worst subject - and began reading.

_"Let me see: Camari Poison, antidotes..."  
_

* * *

No less than seven hours later a throbbing pain behind his temples told him that he had pushed his body too far yet again. Harry took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. He had successfully gone through three quarters of the Potion notes from his previous year. Perhaps he should just call it an evening and do the remaining quarter tomorrow, and then he had to read through _Antidotes and Healing Potions_ again.

His stomach suddenly let out a loud growl, and a glance at the watch confirmed that he had missed dinner again. These days the Dursleys only called for him once, and if he didn't show up... well, that was his problem.

Groaning he straightened his aching back and headed down the stairs to make himself a quick sandwich. The Dursleys were watching TV in the living room, so Harry walked as silently as possible. He didn't need any spiteful remarks right now. Unfortunately, the lowest step decided to let out a creak right then, and that was enough to make Dudley look over his shoulder. He sneered at the sight of Harry and got up. Harry ignored him and walked into the kitchen, but Dudley came waddling after.

"I heard you," Dudley declared with a satisfied smile.

"You heard me walking down the stairs? Congratulations, Dudley, that's a real achievement," Harry said while rummaging through the fridge.

"No, I meant last night, while you were asleep."

"Ah, you mean my snoring? Yes, most people have a tendency to do that."

"Not your snoring, your _whimpering_."

Harry stopped to stare puzzled at Dudley. "Whimpering? What whimpering?"

"Nooo, he's not dead!" Dudley mimicked in a ridiculously snivelling voice. "Let me go, Lupin! He's not dead!"

Grief clutched Harry's heart. The one thing he had tried not to think of ever since he returned to the Dursleys came rushing back to him. For a moment he was back in the Department of Mysteries.

_"Sirius!" Harry yelled. "Sirius!" He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be just behind the curtain, he, Harry, would pull him back out... But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back. "There's nothing you can do, Harry - 'Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!' - it's too late, Harry. 'We can still reach him'" - Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go..._

_"There's nothing you can do, Harry... nothing... he's gone."_

Suddenly he was back in the Dursleys' kitchen. His legs quivered and his breath came in rapid swallow gasps. He looked up at Dudley who stood sneering, obviously proud of his work. Fury clouded Harry's mind and a second later he was standing right in front of his cousin, their noses almost touching.

"Dudley, in exactly one year from now I'll be seventeen," Harry rasped. "Do you know what that means?"

"Uh, no...?" Dudley said, a bit taken aback.

"It means that according to the laws of my kind I'll be 'of age'. Which in turn means that I can legally do magic outside of school." Harry took savage pleasure in the horrified expression appearing on Dudley's face. "I promise you this, Dudley; the first charm I'll perform outside of school will be transfiguring you into a pig."

Harry left his thunderstruck cousin and walked up the stairs to his room. He slammed the door shut, breathing heavily as if he had been running for miles. _"Sirius...!"_ Wild rage possessed him. He grabbed _Antidotes and Healing Potions_ and threw it straight into the wall. _Damn Snape for taunting Sirius!_ His trunk crashed into the bedside table. _Damn Dumbledore for not telling him about the prophecy!_ Carefully sorted parchments went flying all over the room. _And damn Voldemort for causing all this!_

Suddenly the door was ripped up, revealing Mr Dursley standing in the doorway. "Boy, what are you doing in there?" he demanded. "And what have you done to Dudley? He's hiding in the cupboard under the stairs, refusing to come out!"

Harry grabbed his wand from the table and showed it into his uncle's gut. "I'll say this only once," Harry growled. "Leave me alone or you, Aunt Petunia, Dudley and this whole house will be ash before you can count to three." Mr Dursley's usually ruddy face drained of colour as he realized his nephew was deadly serious.

Satisfied his uncle having gotten the hint, Harry shut and locked the door - and then promptly collapsed on the bed, thoroughly exhausted. His heart ached so much from grief he thought someone must have ripped it out.

_"Breath in, breathe out,"_ he thought, going through an Occlumency exercise. _"Concentrate on your breathing. Breath in, breath out."_ His racing heart began to calm. _"Breathe in, breathe out."_ No emotion. _"Breathe in, breathe out."_ No thoughts.

Harry never noticed falling asleep.

* * *

A gentle breeze playing with his hair woke him up. Harry didn't think much of it - he was used to sleeping with the window open so that Hedwig could fly in and out as she pleased. He just turned around and tried to fall asleep again.

_"Harry..."_ A voice soft as velvet filled his head.

Harry lifted his head still half-asleep and peered around in the darkness, looking for the owner of the voice. No, he was all alone in the forest clearing.

_Forest clearing?_

Harry shot up in his bed, suddenly wide awake. The bed he had been sleeping in was no longer in his uncle and aunt's house, that was for sure. It was sitting in a small forest clearing illuminated by moonlight, the threes and the half-dark giving the impression of a wall surrounding him. Harry hopped out of the bed and looked around wildly, wand at the ready. What had happened? How did he get here? He raked through his memory in an effort to remember. He clearly recalled doing Occlumency exercises to calm his rage at his room, whereupon he probably fell asleep.

Harry's insides turned cold as he realized that the only wizard he could imagine had the power to transport him out of Privet Drive was Voldemort himself. Gritting his teeth to stop them from chattering, he slowly turned in a circle and squinted into the half-dark. Even with the moonlight he could not make out anything beyond the clearing. Harry chanced a quick glance at the sky to see how full the moon was - and immediately did a double take. On the starlit sky, no less than seven moons were shining down at him.

"Merlin's beard!" Harry exclaimed. "Where am I?"

_"You are in the Casara Matonda."_

Harry jumped nearly a foot into the air. He spun around trying to look in all directions at once, but deep down he knew it was useless. The voice had come from inside his own _mind_...

"Whose there?" he demanded. "Where are you?"

_"Relax, we mean you no harm."_

But Harry weren't about to relax. These people - whoever they were - had transported Harry straight through all the magical protections Dumbledore had arranged for him without him even noticing. "Show yourself!" he demanded.

Three towering shapes materialized out of thin air, and the pure astonishment Harry felt made every curse and charm fly out of his head. Mind and body numb with shock, he could only stand and stare at the inhuman owners of the mysterious voices. He would remember that moment in the years to come, remember it and be grateful.

Harry's birthright had been revealed and the world was changed forever.

**Author's notes:**

Well, here you have a brand new fanfic. Hope you'll like it. A few things, though: First, let me say that this is (obviously) post-OotP and hence _not_ a sequel to my earlier fanfic, 'The Guardian of Hogwarts'. Second, Harry won't become super-Harry overnight. He has a _long_ way left to go. Third, pairing will eventually be HarryCho, so if you don't like that I'm afraid you are out of luck...

In any case, I hope you'll enjoy it.


	2. The First Transformation

**Chapter 2: The First Transformation**

  
Next morning Harry's behaviour gave no clues that something out of the ordinary had happened that night. By 10am, he had eaten, showered, packed his trunk and was ready to go. As he carried his stuff down the stairs he glanced at the Dursleys. Mr Dursley was watching TV - or at least trying to. Every minute or so he'd get up to peek out the window, while Aunt Petunia were nervously trying to read a woman's magazine. Harry ignored them, sat down and tried to control his impatience.

"How will those freaky friends of yours get here?" Mr Dursley asked without taking his eyes off the TV. "Not through the fireplace, I hope?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. The letter didn't say."

Mr Dursley snorted contemptuously for a response.

_"What a charming fellow,"_ Storm spoke inside Harry's mind. In a strange way her voice reminded him of the sound threes made when they moved in the wind. "Is he always like this?"

_"Oh, this is nothing,"_ Harry thought back. _"You should see him if I mention the words 'magic' or 'wizard'."_

_"I can hardly believe someone can have such a... medieval relationship to magic,"_ Thunder said in a growling bass.

_"Heh. Too bad we can't give him a demonstration, yet,"_ Lightning said, who had an oddly steely quality to her voice.

_"The time will come,"_ Thunder chuckled. _"The time will come."_

About one and a half hour later, Dudley came stomping down the stairs. He gave Harry a terrified look and then promptly ripped open the door to the cupboard, somehow squeezed his considerable body mass inside, and shut the door with a bang. Harry snorted with laughter, but Mr and Mrs Dursley gave him such an ugly look he found it best to wait outside.

As the clock drew near 12pm Harry suddenly heard two loud cracks in quick succession coming from the living room, closely followed by Aunt Petunia's scream and Uncle Vernon's indignant cursing. Harry sniggered to himself as he went back inside. Whomever the Order had sent to pick him up had Apparated right into the Dursleys living room.

"I will not have this kind of unnaturalness in my house!" Mr Dursley shouted on the top of his lungs. "Use the front door like normal people - no, use the _back_ door-"

"Keep quiet, Dursley!" came a familiar growling voice. "I travel as I see fit, and no bloody Muggle is going to tell me otherwise."

Harry grinned wider as he entered the living room and found Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody and Nymphadora Tonks standing there, the former glaring daggers at Mr Dursley and the latter looking around interested. Someone had apparently informed Mad-eye that the bowler hat he had used to cover his magical eye with just made him seem more suspicious, because he was now wearing a black eye patch instead. Unfortunately, Tonks had ruined the impression by changing her hair colour to neon blue and growing it down to her knees.

Mr Dursley opened his mouth as if to say something, but then thought better of it and instead sat down beside his wife who had her eyes closed and one hand pressed against her chest.

"Hello, Potter," Mad-eye growled. "Everything ready?"

"Yeah, um- who is it that always start screaming in the Entrance Hall to where we are going?" Harry asked just to be sure it actually was Mad-eye.

"Mrs Black, of course," Mad-eye said and looked delighted at Harry having acquired a healthy doze of paranoia.

"Thanks. Tonks, who is it that usually make her scream?"

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Me and my clumsiness, wise-guy."

Harry chuckled. "Alright, how are we getting there?"

"Portkey," he grunted and dug around in his pockets. "It's safe now that the Ministry is back on our side. Got it here somewhere..."

"Had a nice summer, Harry?" Tonks asked brightly.

"Well, I have to admit that it passed quicker than usual," Harry grinned. Tonks had been one of those who had threatened the Dursleys with dire consequences if they mistreated Harry. "As a matter of fact I've had much worse summers."

"Ah, here it is," Mad-eye said and held up the wrapping from a piece of chewing gum. Harry could barely make out the words 'Ton-Tongue Toffee' on it. Ignoring Mr Dursley, whose astonished look clearly said that he thought them insane, they walked into the Hall.

"Alright, there's only a few seconds left so be quick," Mad-eye said. "Tonks, take the bird cage. Harry, you take the broom, and I'll take the trunk." Tonks and Harry touched the chewing gum wrapping with one finger. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Mr Dursley peeking nervously out of the living room, staring at this little bit of craziness. Then suddenly he felt the familiar hook behind the navel, and he was dragged off into a swirl of colours. A few seconds later his feet slammed back into the ground. The room they were standing in were pitch dark. Squinting, Harry couldn't even make out his own hands.

"Um, Professor? Is something wrong?" he asked nervously. He'd had some very bad experiences with portkeys before.

"I've told you, boy, I'm not a professor anymore," came the gruff voice of Mad-eye. "And nothing's wrong. Tonks, are you gonna turn on the lights or not?"

Several gas lamps suddenly illuminated the room, and Harry's brain had barely time to register that the room was filled with over a dozen people before an ear-splitting _'Happy birthday!'_ nearly knocked him on his backside. About one second later the world disappeared in bushy brown hair, and _something_ tried to squeeze the air out of his lungs.

"H-Hermione?" Harry managed to get out.

"Easy, let the poor chap breathe," came Ron's amused voice.

Hermione let go of Harry and beamed up at him. "Welcome back, Harry. We've been missing you."

"Yeah, the wizarding world is not quite the same without the Amazing Adventures of the Boy Who Lived," Ron joked and slapped his back.

Slowly a grin spread across Harry's face as he surveyed the room. A large banner floated in the air seemingly on its own, with 'Happy birthday, Harry' written across in letters that slowly faded from one colour to the next. Beneath it a huge birthday cake was standing on the table. It would have easily reached to Harry's chest had it been sitting on the floor. And gathered all around him were all of Harry's closest friends and then some.

Aside from Ron, Hermione, Mad-eye and Tonks, Ginny was also there in a beautiful blue dress that clearly said that she was no longer just Ron's little sister, but a girl ready to take on the world. The Weasley twins, Fred and George, were also there, with the usual mischievous glimmer in their eyes. Neville and Luna from Harry's 'Death Eater fighting gang' were present, too. Finally, Remus Lupin, Mr and Mrs Weasley and even Professor Dumbledore himself was there, the latter's eyes twinkling merrily.

"You- you threw a birthday party for me?" Harry exclaimed while trying to keep his voice even. Crying in his own birthday party wouldn't look cool.

"Of course we did, silly," Hermione smiled. "That's the least we could do."

"Right, now that the emotional stuff is hopefully over," Fred intoned while his twin made puking-sounds, "would birthday boy please get his backside over here and open his presents so that we can eat some cake?"

Laughter erupted throughout the room, and the twins walked over to Harry, grabbed one arm each, lifted him off the ground, carried him over to the table and unceremoniously dumped him down in a chair.

"Fred and George Weasley!" Mrs Weasley shouted. "What do you think you're doing?"

But everyone else just laughed. "Go ahead, Harry," Lupin grinned. "It's the main event after all."

Harry eyed the pile of presents, not knowing quite where to start.

"Open the one from me first," Ron said, reached into the pile and handed Harry a fancy envelope with silver writing that read: 'To Harry'. Inside Harry found a card that gave him a one-year subscription to a magazine called _Quidditch Quest Monthly_.

"Thanks, Ron!" Harry grinned.

The next present was (surprise!) a book from Hermione: _Defence Against the Dark Arts: What a teacher ought to know._

"It's not that you weren't already doing a great job as a teacher for the DA," Hermione said after Harry thanked her, "but I thought you'd need it. Now that the Ministry has officially admitted that Voldemort is back I bet we'll have an influx of new members." Harry blinked at her. He hadn't even thought one way or the other of continuing with the DA this semester. The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher couldn't possibly be as bad as Umbridge - which was the main reason they had started the group in the first place.

Harry gave himself a shake and opened the present from Mad-eye and Tonks: a wand holster to strap on his forearm. No one would be able to se it as long as he wore Hogwarts robes or a Muggle sweater and didn't roll up his sleeves.

"It's standard Auror equipment," Tonks explained. "The Expelliarmus Charm won't work as long as your wand is in the holster, and if you suddenly need it in a hurry it's enough to concentrate hard on your wand."

Harry did so, and with a small click his wand jumped out of the holster and into his hand. "Thanks," he said. "I might need that one day." Tonks waved Harry's thanks away, and Mad-eye hemmed and hawed and found a very interesting spot on the floor to study.

The biggest surprise, however, came when Harry opened a letter with two handwritings from the Weasley twins that read:

_Dear sponsor,_

_Since you were kind enough to provide initial capital for Weasleys's Wizard Wheezes it is only fair that you are rewarded for your generosity. Therefore we have decided to make you into a WWW shareholder. Congratulations, you are now the proud owner of thirty-three per cent of total stock!_

_Fred and George Weasley,  
Co-Presidents of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes._

_PS: Mom isn't mad at you for financing us. She has finally accepted that the only careers we are interested in are pranks. And that's about time, too!_

Harry stared overwhelmed at the twins who stood there with a smug look - more smug than usual, that is. "I can't accept this!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, yes you can," George said, and Harry noticed both twins were fingering their wands. "Just like we did when you showed all those Galleons on us."

"I'm warning you, we learned some pretty good jinxes especially for this occasion," Fred threatened.

Realizing he wouldn't be able to refuse _and_ actually walk out of the room, Harry had no choice but to give in. "Alright," he said shakily. "And thanks, guys. That's one heck of a birthday present."

Mrs Weasley gave a snort. "That from someone who gave away a thousand Galleons, just like that." She gave the twins a piercing look. "And you two who actually accepted!"

"Hey, he practically threatened us at wandpoint, mom," Fred said defensively.

"That's true," Harry said hurriedly. "I didn't want them after what happened, and would probably have flushed them down in the toilet if Fred and George hadn't accepted them."

"Well, what's done is done," Lupin interjected when Mrs Weasley opened her mouth argue further. "Why don't you open the present from me, Harry?"

Glad for the distraction, Harry wasted no time in tearing off the wrapping paper, exposing a shallow stone basin. It was lighter than he would have thought from looking at it, and it had strange runes and symbols carved around the edge. Harry had seen one of these before, in Professor Dumbledore's office.

"A Pensieve?" Harry asked dumbfounded.

"Yes, considering how much you and your little gang enjoy the role of detectives, I thought you'd like one of those," Lupin said lightly. "It makes it easier to spot patterns and links. Or so I've been told."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said sincerely.

"Oh, please!" Lupin chuckled. "I haven't been your professor for two years now, and I like to think that we've become friends. Call me Remus or Moony."

"Alright, Moony then," Harry grinned. He liked that name. "How do you use this thing?"

"That's easy enough. Press the tip of your wand against your temple and concentrate on the memory you want to remove. Then carefully pull away your wand."

Harry did as he'd been told, pressing his wand against his temple and concentrated on the first time he flew on a broomstick. As he moved his wand away he could see a silvery thread hanging from the tip. For a few seconds he hesitated - he couldn't remember what he'd just been concentrating on. It was as if there was something missing in his mind. Shrugging, he disposed the memory in the Pensieve.

"There you go," Lupin said. "That's all there's to it."

The three remaining parcels were from Ginny, Neville and Luna, and contained a box of Fillibusters Fabulous Waterproof No-Heat Fireworks, and various candies such as Every Flavour beans and Chocolate Frogs.

"Hey, you didn't need to buy me anything," Harry smiled.

"Of course we did," Luna said seriously. "It's your birthday party, is it not?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Before we begin eating Mrs Weasley's delicious cake I'd like to give back something that's rightfully yours," the old professor said and handed Harry his Firebolt, which he had been hiding behind his back. Harry jumped up from the chair and snatched the broomstick with a wild grin, causing some laughter around the room. With everything that had happened at the end of last term, he had actually forgotten that Umbridge had confiscated it. His subsequent depression and total dedication to the oath he had sworn that night a month ago, had caused him to forget about the whole matter.

"Of course, since Mrs Umbridge is no longer a member of the Hogwarts faculty, your Quidditch ban has been lifted and you're back on the team," Dumbledore continued with a twinkle in his eye. Cheers erupted from Neville, Hermione and the Weasley kids, and Harry got quite a few pats on the back.

"Well, now that birthday boy has gotten his presents, perhaps we can get something to eat?" Fred asked and looked at his mother with an eager expression.

Mrs Weasley heaved a resigned sigh. "Alright, alright. Sit down everyone." As everyone found someplace to sit along the table, she pointed her wand at a spatula that promptly began serving cake on its own.

"Say, Harry; you _are_ going to continue with the DA this year, right?" Neville asked.

"I haven't really thought about it," Harry said thoughtfully through a mouthful of cake. "I've taught you guys just about everything I know."

"But you've got to!" Ron exclaimed from across the table. "The DA was the only reason why I got an 'O' on my OWL in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Yes, but we only started the DA in the first place because of that cow Umbridge," Harry said. "If we get a decent teacher this year, we may not need the DA."

"Still, some more practical training wouldn't hurt, now that You-Know-Who is back and all," Neville countered hopefully.

Harry thought that while Neville did have a point it was true that he had reached the limit of his knowledge. Of course he had Hermione's birthday present, but he doubted that would be enough. "I don't know," Harry said. "I'll think about it, okay? Speaking of OWLs, how did you guys do?"

"Well, except for that 'O' in Defence Against the Dark Arts, I got 'E's in nearly everything else," Ron said. "Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, theoretical Astronomy and Potions. I got an 'A' in practical Astronomy, a 'P' in History of Magic, and a 'T' in Divination-"

"A 'T'?" Hermione said and looked surprised at George. "As in 'Troll'? I thought you were joking!"

George looked back equally surprised. "I was joking! I thought that grade didn't exist."

"Are you two finished rubbing salt in the wound?" Ron grunted. "Me failing in Divination was a given since day one."

"How did you do, Hermione?" Neville asked.

"Are you kidding?" Ron said and eyed Hermione sideways. "Perfect 'O's in everything, of course - except practical Astronomy where she got an 'E'. But that was just because she was distracted by Umbridge attacking Hagrid."

"Oh, shut it," Hermione muttered, trying not to look too smug.

They swapped OWL results a while more ("You got an 'O' in Potions?" Ron exclaimed impressed. "How the heck did you pull that off?"), until Fred and George got bored and decided to test their newest invention - exploding tea cups which turned the face of the victim blue. Seconds later they got more entertainment when a blue-faced Mrs Weasley chased the twins around the room. The entertainment came to an abrupt end, however, when Mad-eye ate or drank something that charmed his hair into dreadlocks, whereupon he promptly transfigured Fred and George into ferrets. He later told Harry that he didn't make them bounce up and down because: "Anyone who manage to trick me into drinking a potion deserves some respect."

It was well past midnight before Harry and Ron made their way up to the bedroom they shared. They played a little with Harry's new Pensieve (Ron let Harry see his memory of the last Quidditch match), but were really too tired and too stuffed with cake to keep awake much longer. Eventually Harry fell asleep, truly content for the first time in over a month.

* * *

When Harry woke hours later it was still dark. A glance at his wristwatch told him that it was only 4pm. He sat up in bed and peered into the darkness, wondering what had awoken him. Only Ron's snoring penetrated the darkness.

_"Harry, it's nearly time."_

Harry jumped as the voice sounded in his mind. "Lightning! Don't scare me like that! Time for what?"

_"The first transformation. It'll start soon."_

"What? Now?" Harry exclaimed wildly.

_"The transformations do not wait for anyone,"_ Thunder said with a hint of amusement in his voice. _"You better be quick, if you want to keep this secret."_

Harry glanced at Ron who was still snoring away, then got out of bed and tiptoed across the room. He opened the door, slipped out silent as a wraith and closed it gently behind him. Now where should he go? Where could he be sure no one would find him for about an hour? Then he suddenly remembered the drawing room he had helped clean up the previous year. Shivering from the cold air and wishing he had taken the time to get dressed, Harry quickly made his way toward the room.

The drawing room was as he remembered it - except for the tapestry showing the Black family three which someone had finally managed to tear down and replaced with a man-sized mirror. Heat began building in his chest; that was the warning signal, Harry knew. It was about to begin. Quickly he shut the door, and muttered an epithet when he saw it had no lock. There was no time to find a different room; this would have to do.

Harry took a few calming breaths and positioned himself in the centre of the room. The heat had spread to his entire torso, and was currently flowing down his arms and legs like water. He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to imprint in his memory how he looked. While the first transformation wouldn't alter him too radically, the same couldn't be said about later transformations.

"I will keep my friends safe," Harry whispered to himself. "No matter the cost."

He was sweating now. In the mirror he could see a faint golden light spreading out of his chest. He closed his eyes and concentrated on calming his racing heart. When he opened them again he saw that both his body and his pyjamas had grown transparent. He could actually see his own heart beating furiously. And then Harry's world disappeared in a tremendous burst of golden light so bright he was forced to shut his eyes again. He could feel magic radiating out of his body, and deep down Harry knew that now there was too late to retrace his steps. It had begun.

**Author's notes:**

Whoa! _Twelve_ reviews after only the first chapter? Well, hope you liked this one, too...


	3. Letters & Decisions

**Chapter 3: Letters & Decisions**

  
When Harry and Ron came down the stairs for breakfast next morning, he noticed quite a few changes to the house. For instance had the row of House-Elf heads been removed, the painting of Mrs Black was gone and the part of the wall where she had been hanging had obviously undergone some makeshift repairs. Ron snickered when Harry mentioned this.

"Mom told me it was Tonks' work," he said. "She stumbled in the umbrella stand again, got feed up with Mrs Black's screaming and used some kind of blasting curse. Blew both Mrs Black and a considerable part of the wall to bits. I only wish we had thought of it sooner."

Harry chuckled a little at this. "Wish I had seen that. And the look on Kreacher's face-" Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks with a pained expression. Kreacher carried his share of the blame for Sirius being dead.

"Oh, Kreacher isn't here anymore," Ron said quickly, sensing Harry's mood. "He had to go to the Malfoys now that Sirius is- I mean-"

"Good," Harry whispered with cruel satisfaction. He remembered very well how the Malfoys had treated Dobby before Harry had freed the House-Elf.

They had resumed walking when the kitchen door opened and Mad-eye came out. "Morning, sir," Harry said, trying to think on something else than Sirius and Kreacher.

"Morning, lads," Mad-eye grunted. "By the way, Potter; Dumbledore wants a word with you. He's in the kitchen."

Dumbledore wasn't alone in the kitchen. Hermione was already there along with Ginny. "Ah, there you are, Harry," Dumbledore beamed as they entered. "Would you please accompany me to my office? I need to talk to you for a moment."

"Sure," Harry said, wondering what this was all about.

Dumbledore took a pinch of Floo Powder from a bowl sitting on the mantelpiece, threw it into the burning fireplace and said: "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts." And then he disappeared in green flames. Harry copied Dumbledore's actions with a grimace; he absolutely hated travelling with Floo Powder. After a dizzying journey through the Floo Network, Harry stepped out of the fireplace in Dumbledore's office.

Harry winced as he saw all the portraits of earlier headmasters looking at him apprehensively. Last time he'd been here, he had smashed one of Dumbledore's mysterious silver gizmos in a fit of rage. Looking around he saw that both it and the table it was standing on had been repaired. That made him feel a little better.

"There are three things I want to talk to you about, Harry," Dumbledore said while gesturing for Harry to sit down. Harry sat down in an armchair next to the fireplace and waited as patiently as he could. The endless staring from the portraits was getting on his nerves. "But first let me thank you for starting that little study group of yours and helping those students to attain a decent grade. If you hadn't, I shudder to think off how many would have failed their OWL in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Harry blushed at the praise. "I can't take the credit for that. It was Hermione's idea."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore smiled. "But it was you who taught them; you essentially did Ms Umbridge's job. One thing, though; if you are thinking of restarting the club I ask you to change the name. While immensely flattering, I believe 'Dumbledore's Army' sends the wrong signals."

"Yes, sir," Harry said and grinned.  
  
"Anyway; as you might have read about in the _Daily Prophet_, Mrs Umbridge is facing a trial for what she did during her short reign here at Hogwarts." Harry thought he could se a flicker of resentment pass across Dumbledore's face as he said it, but it was gone so fast it might as well have been his imagination. "Considering that you were one of her victims, are you willing to testify against her?"

"Yes!" Harry said fervently. "I'll do anything I can to help."

"Good, then that's settled, then. The second thing I wanted to talk to you about is your Occlumency classes," Dumbledore continued gravely. "Now that you have left the protection of your uncle and aunt's house, it is imperative that you resume training as quickly as possible. Voldemort may not be able to possess you directly, but he can still influence your mind and make you do things against your will."

"Of course," Harry thought gloomily, and his shoulders sagged a little. "He doesn't want to lose his weapon." But then another thought suddenly struck him. Was it really fair to think that way? True, Dumbledore had made a mistake when he did not tell Harry about the prophecy years earlier, but should he still be angry on Dumbledore for making that mistake, or should he forgive him?

Harry abruptly realized that there was nothing to forgive. The Headmaster had kept quiet for the sole reason that he wanted Harry to be happy... because he didn't want to burden Harry with that terrible responsibility. Oh, he would continue to resent the fact that the Headmaster hadn't told him what was his right to know, but that was no reason for resenting the Headmaster himself.

Dumbledore had been waiting patiently while these thoughts flew through Harry's head. "All right, Professor," Harry said. "I'll give it my best shot. It's just that my training with Professor Snape didn't seem to help much." The thought of having Snape rummaging around in his head for another year was enough to turn his stomach, but he managed to not let it show.

"Hum, well, I must agree that Professor Snape's teaching methods may be rather ineffective at times," Dumbledore said and coughed. "Which is why I have decided to teach you myself - at least initially. Between the Order and my responsibilities as headmaster I won't have much time, so sometime after you return to Hogwarts the new teacher in Defence Against the Dark Arts will take over."

Harry sighed from relief. "I'll do my best, sir. One thing, though; who _is_ the new teacher?"

"Come now, Harry," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "Telling anybody before the start-of-year feast would be breaking with the tradition. In any case, the third and last matter I whished to discuss with you is more of a warning, really."

Harry stiffened in the chair. He couldn't remember having done anything wrong?

"After you went back to Privet Drive the Ministry of Magic launched an investigation of the events that occurred in the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore said, and Harry did his best to ignore the ache in his heart as unpleasant memories resurfaced. "At my request they left you alone, to allow you time to grieve. Meanwhile the public were shouting for an explanation of why the Ministry had denied that Voldemort had returned, and how Death Eaters could penetrate the Ministry's most secret Department. The preliminary report was released to the _Daily Prophet_ only a few weeks ago. Perhaps you read about it?"

"Um, no. That has to be before I started to subscribe to the _Prophet_."

"I see. Well, while the report lacked certain details, like exactly what Voldemort wanted from the Department of Mysteries and the presence of an escaped convict named Sirius Black" - Harry's hands balled into firsts - "it fit remarkably well with the truth. According to the _Daily Prophet_ you somehow learned - it's not very clear at that point - that a group of Death Eaters would try to steal top-secret information from the Department of Mysteries; information which it was a matter of life and death that they would never get access to. Due to several unforeseen circumstances you were unable to contact an adult, and in desperation you and five other students travelled to the Ministry in an attempt to stop them."

Dumbledore paused to regard Harry over his half-moon spectacles. "You battled a dozen Death Eaters for over an hour, several of you sustaining serious injuries in the process, stalling them long enough for Ministry personnel to arrive at the scene. Eventually Voldemort himself was forced to intervene in order to get the information he sought." Dumbledore gave a smile. "That's when I enter the story."

"But that's not true!" Harry spluttered. "Most of the time we spent running away from the Death Eaters, and if you hadn't showed up Voldemort would have killed me for sure!"

"Harry, Harry," Dumbledore sighed, and his eyes glimmered with amusement. "It doesn't matter if it is true or not. People want to believe it, so they do."

"So people would rather buy into a fantasy rather the truth?" Harry asked nettled.

Dumbledore chuckled at Harry's expression. "Of course they would. Harry, you are too young to remember how it was during Voldemort's first rise to power," he said, and suddenly turned quite serious. "You don't understand what kind of fear he spread. At the time Voldemort seemed completely unstoppable. Every morning wizards and witches all over the world would read the newspapers to find out who had been killed during the night, hoping it wouldn't be their friends or loved ones. _Everyone_ who tried to fight him died. _Everyone_ who stood in his way was eradicated along with their families. The terror he spread were absolute. And then you came along and did what the greatest wizards and witches of our age had failed in: You stopped Voldemort."

"But that was because my mother died for me," Harry objected. "Not because I'm special."

"Yes, but the point is that people don't want to return to fearing for their lives, which is why they bought Fudge's slander about you so readily. It was so much more comfortable to believe that you were a braggart rather than that the dark days were back." Dumbledore gave Harry a smile. "Of course, the events at the Department of Mysteries change things rather radically."

"How so?" Harry asked. He wasn't so sure if he liked the direction the conversation were going in.

"After Voldemort revealed himself at the Ministry, and after Fudge's admittance of the fact, the public no longer had any choice in what to believe; the facts had been thrown into their faces. The invincible Voldemort were back. And so they turned to the only person who had ever defeated him, hoping that he could pull it off again."

"Me?" Harry said sceptically. "The entire wizarding world expects me to defeat Voldemort?"

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said solemnly. "You have become their light in the dark, so to speak. In a way you've always been, you just haven't realized just how famous you really are. Which brings me back to the warning I spoke of earlier. When you return to Hogwarts you'll find it difficult to know who really is your friend and who is just pretending to be because you're famous. Also, I can imagine you are more unpopular among the Slytherins than ever before, for obvious reasons - especially to young Mr Malfoy."

"So basically you are saying I have to be careful in making new friends, and expect to be cursed in the corridors," Harry said dismayed. Why couldn't his life ever be simple?

"Yes, but keep in mind that those friends you already have made is likely to stay your friends, Ms Granger and Mr Weasley among them," Dumbledore said with a smile. "But now let's get you back to the Order headquarters, you must be starving. We'll resume with your Occlumency training first thing after breakfast."

* * *

When Harry stepped out of the fireplace in the kitchen, he saw that Luna, Neville and the Weasley twins had joined Ron, Hermione and Ginny at the table. "Oh, so you guys decided to stay over?" Harry said as he sat down beside Neville.

"Yeah, both Dumbledore and the Ministry figured that we aren't very popular with the Death Eaters right now," Neville said between mouthfuls. "They convinced Luna's father and gran that we should spend the summer here." He lowered his voice conspiracy. "Is it true that this is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix? The Ministry has always denied that it existed."

"You should take everything the Ministry says with a grain of salt," Harry said. "At least as long as Fudge is in office. The Order holds meetings right here in this kitchen."

"Fudge first wanted us to be under Auror protection, but dad didn't like that," Luna said dreamily, while staring into her glass of orange juice like it contained the secrets of the universe. "He suspected Fudge might try to use us as a propaganda tool to take over Gringotts." A series of quiet sniggers went around the table that Luna didn't seem to notice.

Right then Lupin and Tonks (today: pink hair) walked in, both looking indescribably smug. Lupin carried a large sack with his right hand, and had intertwined his fingers with Tonks' with his left. At first this last part didn't register in Harry's mind, but then he did a double take so quickly his neck hurt. Tonks and Lupin quickly let go of each other, wearing identical innocent expressions.

Harry looked from Lupin to Tonks and back again. "Um, Moony? Tonks? Is there anything you want to tell me?"

To Harry's complete amazement they both actually blushed. He had never seen Lupin being embarrassed before, and Tonks had never struck him as being someone who got flustered easily.

"Uh, well, Harry," Lupin spluttered. "You see, Tonks and I, we-" For once he seemed to be at loss for words and he looked at Tonks helplessly.

"We have decided to spend more time together," Tonks said lamely.

Hermione and Ginny giggled, and Harry couldn't stop a grin from appearing on his face. "And for how long have you been spending 'more time together?'"

"About three weeks," Lupin admitted. "We didn't tell you because we didn't know how you were going to react."

"React? This is the best news I've had for a while," Harry sniggered, and turned to the twins. "Did you guys know?"

"No, we've seen them sneaking around, but we thought it was just Order business," Fred said thoughtfully. "But now that you mention it, they've nearly always been sneaking around _together_."

"But we _did_ think it pretty strange that Tonks went to Lupin's bedroom at midnight," George put in with a grin.

"Alright, that's enough," Lupin said red-faced. "No more discussions of mine and Nympies private lives."

The roar of laughter that filled the kitchen was enough to make the floor tremble. Ron fell off his chair from laughter and Neville choked on his orange juice, while Hermione and Ginny collapsed in giggles. "Nymphie?" Harry questioned with tears in his eyes. "_Nymphie?_"

Lupin hid his face in one hand, horrified over his slip-up, while Tonks looked like she didn't know whether to hex everyone or join in the laughter.

"Alright, quiet," Lupin said as the laughter seemed to die out. Then he took the sack he had been carrying and emptied its contents on the table. Hundreds of letters spilled out, all of them addressed to Harry.

"What's all this?" Harry said nonplussed.

"Accumulated letters over the last month," Lupin said. "Now that the _Daily Prophet_ have begun telling more or less the truth again, most of those letters are undoubtedly from people who 'always' believed in you."

"You held back my letters?" Harry frowned.

"Well, we had to," Tonks said and shrugged. "Even the protection at your uncle and aunt's house would be useless if someone turned a letter into a portkey. So we didn't have any other choice but to intercept every unknown owl heading for your place and test each letter."

"Alright, alright," Harry said and held up his arms in mock surrender. "I see your reasoning, but I still don't like it." He looked at his friends and gestured toward the letters. "Give me a hand, will you?"

As Lupin had predicted, most of the letters were from people who either wanted to tank Harry for sticking to his story of Voldemort's return, or wanted to apologize for having doubted him - with a few exceptions.

"This woman says she still doesn't believe in you," Ron said and frowned down on a letter. "'You are a nutcase and you'll always be a nutcase!'... no, wait. It's from Fudge's mother, never mind."

"Here's a letter from Ernie Macmillan," Ginny said. "He's wondering if you'll continue with the DA."

It turned out that every DA member had sent him a letter asking the same question, even Zacharias Smith and Michael Corner. Including a girl named... Cho Chang.

_Dear Harry,_

_Are you still mad at me for defending Marietta? I am truly sorry she put you in trouble, but you must understand that she did what she thought was best. She was afraid Fudge would have her mother fired if anyone found out that she was a member of the DA, and when Umbridge began snooping around she didn't dare keep quiet anymore. Besides, it was I who practically dragged her to the Room of Requirement, so I guess you've got one more reason to be angry with me._

_Anyway, I'm very interested in whether you are going to continue with the DA, which I very much hope. I can honesty say I've never learned as much from any Defence Against the Dark Arts class as I have from you. Never thought I'd be able to conjure up a Patronus!_

_You're not going to kick me out, are you?_

_Best wishes,  
Cho._

Harry read the letter several times, trying to sort out his emotions. One year ago he would have done cartwheels over getting a letter from Cho, but now he didn't know what to feel. He was ready to admit to himself that he _had_ had a crush on Cho, once. But now? Harry couldn't decide. Another thought surfaced in his mind: _Why_ had he been interested in the Ravenclaw? Was it just because she was pretty and popular? Was he really that swallow?

"Hey, Earth to Harry!" Harry shook off the confused thoughts and looked up at Ron who was obviously trying to stifle a laugh. He pointed at Hermione who were holding... a pink panty between thumb and forefinger.

"What-?"

"Some woman sent you her underwear, Harry," she said and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Harry grimaced as Fred and George broke out in wolf whistles, and Ginny hid giggling her face in her hands. "Throw it in the fireplace," Harry groaned. "And nobody say another word about it. The last I need is Snape getting wind of this."

Hermione balled the panty together and threw it into the fire... just as Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace and caught the panty in his face. For a moment he seemed to be at a loss for words. He just stared from the panty in his hand to Hermione (who had covered her mouth with both hands and blushed furiously) and back again. Everyone else was howling with laughter.

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore, I- I'm so sorry - SHUT UP!" she bellowed at Ron who were rolling on the floor and clutching his stomach. "I didn't mean to- I didn't know- BE QUIET!"

"It's alright," Dumbledore chuckled and dropped the panty in the fireplace. "But that's the most interesting reception I've had in a while. Are you ready, Harry?"

"One moment, Professor," Harry said and wiped away tears. He carefully folded Cho's letter and put it in his pocket, and then he gathered all the letters from the DA members. "Would you mind throwing the rest in the trash, Ron? Thanks."

_"Oh, no!"_ Harry suddenly thought as he and Dumbledore walked out of the kitchen. _"Legimency! What if Dumbledore happen to find a memory about you?"_ He really didn't fancy the thought of explaining that to Dumbledore.

_"Put most of the relevant memories in your Pencieve,"_ Storm said. _"We should be able to hide the rest, unless he specifically search for them."_

_"Right."_ To Dumbledore he said: "I just have to go to my room with these letters. I'll be with you in a sec."

Dumbledore nodded. "We'll be training in the drawing room."

Harry bolted up the stairs and into the room he and Ron shared. Throwing the letters on his bed, he began disposing memories into his new Pencieve, memories that no one could be allowed to see - not yet. _"...the Land of the Shadow... I'll explain what we are... this is your birthright... you have to undergo a number of transformations... the choice is yours..."  
_

* * *

A few minutes later Harry found Dumbledore sitting in the sofa in the drawing room, just like he had said.

"Ah, there you are," Dumbledore said and got up. "Professor Snape has informed me of the difficulties you face in regards to Occlumency, so we'll start by reviewing what you have learned. First, tell me the elementary method of preventing a Legilimens from penetrating your mind."

"By clearing my mind of thoughts and emotions so that the Legilimens can't find emotional ties to memories I wish to conceal," Harry quoted. He remembered it well from Snape's lessons.

"Correct. And how do you do that?"

Harry scratched his head. "Well, Snape - pardon; _Professor_ Snape - just told me to clear my mind, he never mentioned a specific method of doing it. However, I found a book during the summer that mentioned a technique called 'the Fire and the Void'. I've been practising it a bit."

Dumbledore looked faintly surprised for a moment, and then rather amused. "Have you now? Well, why don't you clear your mind using the Fire and the Void and the we'll see."

Harry closed his eyes and imagined a fire in the centre of his mind, like he had read about in _The Art of Occlumency_. Slowly he began to feed it thoughts and emotions and as he did this, the fire grew. He kept doing this until the fire seemed to penetrate his entire mind, consuming everything in its path. Eventually Harry reached the point where it felt like the fire didn't have anything left to burn, and he let it die out. All that was left of his mind was an empty void, completely devoid of any thought or emotion.

"I'm ready," Harry said and opened his eyes again, absently aware that his voice was an emotionless drone.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at Harry and said: "Legilimens."

The void began to tremble almost immediately. Remembering that eye contact often was essential for a Legilimens, Harry studied the desk standing in the room instead. The trembling seemed to cease. For about a minute nothing happened, but then Harry began to loose his concentration. Thoughts drifted across the void inside his mind. _"What is Dumbledore doing? Is he still trying to read my mind or has he stopped?"_ The void trembled, and Harry's brow furrowed in effort to keep it still. However, the trembling just seemed to increase, and suddenly the void collapsed and memories washed over him.

_He was nine years old and hiding from Dudley and his friends in an ally… he had just met a red haired boy named Ron on the Hogwarts Express… he was locked inside the cupboard under the stairs…_

Suddenly the flow of memories stopped, and he was once again standing in the drawing room with Dumbledore. Perspiration bathed his forehead, and his breath came in swallow gasps. The old professor regarded him very thoughtfully, and Harry winced. Had he preformed that badly?

Dumbledore gave himself a shake. "That was very impressive for your first try," he said with a twinkle. "Let me guess: You did the mistake of trying to 'reinforce' the void, right?"

"Yes, sir," Harry admitted. "Wasn't I supposed to do that?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Concentrating on keeping the void still will just accelerate its breakdown. Instead try to recreate the fire you envisioned."

"Right…" Harry's forehead furrowed in thought. "But if I feed every thought into the fire, how am I going to remember how to push the intruder out?"

"As soon as you can keep me out for more than a few minutes, I'll start teaching you how to suppress only feelings and thoughts of your choice," Dumbledore said. "But for now clear your mind and we'll try again."

Dumbledore used Legimency on Harry three more times, and Harry was able to keep Dumbledore out for about thirty seconds longer before he lost his concentration. Thoughts and emotions seemed to pop up faster than he could shove them into the fire, at which point the void would collapse.

"I think that'll be enough for today," Dumbledore said, and Harry sank gratefully down on the sofa. It was incredible how mentally draining Occlumency was. "Out of curiosity: What's the name of that book you mentioned earlier?"

"_The Art of Occlumency_ by Gwendolyn Ingolfsson," Harry said, and noticed that his answer seemed to amuse Dumbledore greatly.

"Indeed? Well, it's a most excellent book so remember to do the Occlumency exercises it describes every day, particularly the Fire and the Void. Also, always clear your mind before going to bed."

"Yes, professor."

Dumbledore fished that strange watch with a dozen hands out of his pocket and glanced at it. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave now, Harry," he said. "An Order meeting is scheduled to begin here any minute."

As if on cue one of the persons Harry despised most in the world entered the room - Snape. The potions teacher stopped in the doorway when he saw that Dumbledore wasn't alone, and Harry felt a wave of hate roll over him. It was Snape who had taunted Sirius about how 'useless' he was, which had led to his death. Harry ignored the tiny voice in his head that said that Sirius would have gone to the Department of Mysteries anyway, and glared at the greasy-haired man like he was trying to burn a hole through him.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up at Dumbledore. "Sorry, sir. I was lost in thought for a minute," he said coldly. And then he marched out of the drawing room without another look at Snape.

"I don't understand why you keep wasting your time with Potter," Harry heard Snape say to Dumbledore. "It's obvious that he'll never learn Occlumency."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that, Severus-" Harry never heard more of the conversation as the door shut behind him, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd had been holding. His first thought was to punch his first into the wall as hard as he could, but instead he took several deep breaths and began walking down the stairs. Fits of rage wouldn't help matters; he had learned that much before the summer.

* * *

If Harry had thought that he could relax for the rest of the day, he was sadly mistaken. No sooner had he reached the bottom of the stairs before Hermione practically dragged him to the kitchen again, insisting that everyone should pick their NEWT subjects. Ginny and the Weasley twins managed to sneak away, but he, Ron, Neville and Luna quickly found themselves hunched over each their parchment under the Hermione's watchful eye. That's how Tonks and Lupin found them half an hour later.

"Oops! We thought the kitchen was empty," Tonks said sheepishly.

"Why aren't you on the Order meeting?" Harry asked.

"It's just for the leaders of other anti-Dark Arts organizations," Lupin said. "We don't need to be there."

Ron gave him a surprised look. "I didn't know there were other organizations working against You-Know-Who?"

"Of course there is," Lupin said. "Some has the goal of defending only one specific region, while others were founded to combat one specific dark wizard. Voldemort doesn't care about borders, so Dumbledore has called a meeting with the leaders of those organizations that are willing to help."

It made sense to Harry, and he suddenly felt foolish for believing that only the Ministry of Magic in Britain and the Order of the Phoenix were fighting against Voldemort.

"Speaking of which; what is Voldemort doing," Harry said, and ignored the shudders that went around the room. "Judging from the _Daily Prophet_ he's been awfully quiet."

Lupin regarded Harry for a few seconds. Then he picked a chair and sat down. "Alright, Harry. I'll tell you what I know, which isn't much. You see, out of security reasons the Order operates in a cell structure. Each member knows as much as he needs to in order to do his job, and nothing more. Which means there is limits to how much I can tell you." He waited for Harry's nod before continuing.

"Well, as you said he's keeping a very low profile, now that the wizarding world knows he is back - he isn't as strong as he was before. We know for sure he's got back most of his surviving Death Eaters - those who escaped Azkaban and who weren't given the Dementor's Kiss. He is also busy recruiting more, and has established cells of Death Eaters in several European countries. All the Dementors have sided with him, obviously, and nearly all of the Giants. He has also made moves toward the Goblins and the werewolves."

"Do you think some werewolves will side with him?" Hermione asked. "I can't imagine the Goblins will."

"That's what we think, too," Tonks said, and for once her bright personality were gone. "The Goblins suffered their share of casualties during Voldemort's first rise to power, like the Plymouth Massacre. The werewolves are a different matter, though. The Ministry has discriminated against them for years, and some of them might be sufficiently disgruntled to join Voldemort." Here she gave Lupin a fond look. "Not all of them, though."

"So he's not going to move openly any time soon?" Harry asked.

"No," Lupin said. "We think he'll fight a guerrilla war aimed at wearing down the Ministry, while he builds up his forces."

Harry's face didn't betray anything as he considered what Lupin had said. If Voldemort was currently weaker than Harry had initially thought, and not yet ready to move openly, it meant that he had a little more time. But how much? Certainly not more than a few months.

_"It'll take between six months and two years before you are fully ready,"_ Storm reminded him.

_"I don't have two years,"_ Harry thought back. _"Maybe not even six months."_ How many would die before he fulfilled the prophecy and killed or got killed? Harry looked at Lupin, and he almost said it. He almost told them of the secret he had carried in his heart ever since they picked him up at Privet Drive. But he couldn't. What if they began fearing him? Harry didn't think he'd be able to bear watching his friends look at him in fear, so he kept his mouth shut - even though he absolutely hated keeping secrets from them.

"So, what are you taking for NEWTs, Harry?" Lupin asked, in an abrupt change of subject. He had probably interpreted Harry's silence as brooding.

Harry gave himself a small shake and said: "So far I've decided on Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and" - he grimaced - "Potions."

"Potions?" Lupin said surprised. "Considering your relationship with professor Snape I thought you'd want to drop it?"

"I do, but I need it in order to become an Auror."

"Ah, so that's your career choice," Tonks said with interest and looked over Harry's shoulder to read the list. "I'd advice you to take Herbology, too. Knowing more about the ingredients of Potions never hurts."

"All right, Herbology it is," Harry said and scribbled it down. "Let me see; I failed in History of Magic and Divination, so those are out. Astronomy..." He looked up at Tonks. "You've never had any use of Astronomy as an Auror, right?"

"No, but Astronomy is useful for determining when it is safe to spend the night with Remus," Tonks said cheekily.

"Tonks!" Lupin exclaimed scandalized.

Harry blushed at the image that entered his mind unbidden. Pushing it firmly away he muttered: "Right, that leaves Care of Magical Creatures... oh, I might as well sign up on that one, too. At least I can keep Hagrid company."

"How about you, Ron?" Lupin asked, trying to regain his composure. "Want to become an Auror as well?"

"I would if I could," Ron said sadly. "But I only got an 'E' in Potions, and Snape only accepts students who get an 'O' into his NEWT class."

"So? Subjects like History of Magic or Care of Magical Creatures may not count as much as Potions, but that doesn't mean the game is over," Tonks interjected.

Ron and Harry both looked up surprised. "What? Isn't Potions a required subject?" Ron asked.

"Not exactly required," Tonks explained. "They favour Potions over, say, Herbology, but as long as you get a decent grade in other favoured subjects such as Defence Against the Dark Arts you've still got a good chance. I never attended Potions on the NEWT level, for instance."

"I must have misunderstood Professor McGonagall," Harry said and looked at the parchment. If he didn't absolutely need Potions, he was very tempted to just drop it. On the other hand...

"If you want to be an Auror, I recommend you take Potions anyway," Tonks said quietly. "There has been times when I wish knew more about potions. But it's your choice, of course."

Volunteering for another two years with Snape was one of the hardest things Harry had ever done, but 'NEWT Potions' was on the list when he sealed the letter to McGonagall.

**Author's notes:**

******rayvern: **Sorry, but we won't get to know what has happened to Harry any time soon... there's a reason for it. :)

******Mike: **Hm, I doubt there will be any Harry/Tonks or Harry/Blaise in this story.

******FrostFlame: **The Harry & Cho part will come... eventualy. :)

******the-gray-lord-of-disorder: **Like I said, we will eventualy get to know what happened to Harry that night, but it will take a while.

To everyone else: Thanks for reviewing!


	4. The Trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge

**Chapter 4: The Trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge**

  
_Dear Cho,_

_Sorry for the long delay in answering your letter. Dumbledore   
figures I'm pretty high on Voldemort's death list, so he ordered   
every strange owl heading to my place intercepted and the letters   
they carried confiscated - in case someone got the bright idea of   
sending me a portkey. I only got your letter a few days ago._

_No, I'm not mad at you, and I must apologize for my overreaction   
when you defended Marietta. My only excuse is that I was seriously   
stressed out that year - it's a long story. I realize that you were   
only sticking up to your friend, and that she only acted out of fear.   
However, while I don't blame you for anything, I can't just forgive   
Marietta. If it hadn't been for Dumbledore I can guarantee you that I   
would have been expelled. It is likely that Umbridge would have expelled   
all the other DA members, too - including you. The only reason why we   
weren't expelled is because Dumbledore assumed the blame for the DA,   
which in turn caused his removal as headmaster._

_In any case, I haven't made up my mind yet whether to continue with   
the DA or not. We only started it because of that cow Umbridge, remember?   
I'll let you and the rest of the members know when we return to Hogwarts   
and see what the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is like._

_And I'm not going to kick you out. The door to the Room of Requirement   
will always be open for you._

_I'm sorry things didn't work out between us._

_Harry._

Harry nodded to himself. That would have to do... he had never been any good with words. Carefully he sealed the envelope, gathered up several other letters to various DA members, and got up from the bed he had been sitting cross-legged on.

"Got a big job for you, girl," Harry said to Hedwig who was sitting on top of the wardrobe. "No less than seventeen letters. Think you can handle it?"

Hedwig gave him a look that said: "Of course I can!" and swooped down to Harry's bed. She gently took the letters in her beak, took off and flew out of the already open window. Lost in thought, Harry stared after her until she became a speck in the sky. He had been in the Order headquarters for several days now, and he still hadn't been able to sort out his feelings for Cho. He tried to imagine the Ravenclaw girl in front of him; black hair reaching well bellow her shoulders, dark eyes gleaming with intelligence, her Asiatic features, her slightly lopsided smile. Six months ago his heart would have leaped at the mere thought of her, but now he felt... something he couldn't quite define. A mix of confusion, irritation, longing and something else.

_"So I don't have a crush on her anymore,"_ Harry thought. _"Then why do I feel annoyed at her dating Michael Corner?"_

"Harry, are you ready?"

Harry gave himself a shake and turned around to see Professor Dumbledore standing in the doorway. "Sure," he said. Today was the day when he had to testify in Umbridge's trial. The rest of his soul searching would have to wait.

* * *

Being back in the Ministry of Magic brought back memories Harry rather wanted to forget. Sirius had died only one level further up, and although Harry had begun to accept that he would never see his godfather again, it didn't keep him from turning gloomy. That Cornelius Fudge was waiting for them outside Courtroom Ten didn't make things better.

Harry was shocked at how much weight the Minister had lost since the last time he saw him. Fudge's robes looked like they were at least two sizes too large, and his red-rimmed eyes clearly told of a man who had trouble sleeping at night.

"Hello, Albus," Fudge said to Dumbledore with a smile that looked oddly out of place in that tired face. His eyes moved down to Harry who stiffened under his gaze. "And young Mr Potter," Fudge continued in his best grandfatherly voice.

_"Oh, so I'm 'Mr Potter' now?"_ Harry thought sourly. _"Not Potter the Raving Egomaniac?"_

"Good day, Cornelius," Dumbledore said in a neutral tone of voice and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Is the Wizengamot assembled?"

"Yes, Albus," Fudge said and coughed. "Listen, I can't say how sorry I am for giving Dolores as much power as I did. I would never have condoned the use of a Blood Quill on students!"

"That apology should be given to the victims, not to me," Dumbledore said, and there was a flicker of anger in his eyes. Fudge looked ashamed. Dumbledore turned to address Harry: "When we enter, go straight to the benches and sit down. I will call for you when you shall testify." Harry nodded in agreement.

The murmur of quiet conversations died out as they entered the courtroom. Harry did as they had been told, and found a spot to sit near the door. The only thing that broke the silence was Dumbledore and Fudge's soft footsteps as they crossed the room and took their places beside Madam Bones.

"Bring in the accused," Dumbledore intoned.

The doors to the courtroom opened and two members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad entered, escorting Umbridge between them. She was dragging her feet, a look of desperation and denial on her face. Her eyes constantly darted to left and right as if she were looking for some means of escape. At the sight of Dumbledore she turned pale and looked ready to faint.

The two Law Enforcement Wizards roughly dragged her across the room and unceremoniously dumped her down in the chair Harry had seen Karakoff being confined to in Dumbledore's Pensieve. The chains reacted like vipers and Umbridge let out a short cry when they seized her wrists and ankles.

"August 6th, 1996: Dolores Jane Umbridge stand accused for violating the International Ban on Dark Arts Objects and the Code of Wizard-Dementor Relations," Dumbledore said.

Umbridge looked around pleadingly, but was met with stony expressions wherever she turned. Her searching eyes finally found Harry among the sea of plum-covered robes, and a look of pure hate twisted her face.

Dumbledore continued after a brief pause. "Interrogators: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock; and Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Court Secretary: Percival Ignatius Weasley."

Harry's head snapped up to look at Percy who was sitting at the edge of one bench, hunched over a parchment and ready to take notes. Harry hadn't thought of the possibility that Percy might be here this day. Even though he had abandoned his entire family he didn't seem to have a care a world, which Harry thought strange. After Fudge publicly admitted that Voldemort was back, he would have expected _some_ sort of reaction from Percy.

"Persecutor's witnesses: Harry James Potter, Lee Jordan..." Dumbledore proceeded to list at least a dozen other Hogwarts students in addition to a few names Harry had never heard before. "Defence witnesses..." Dumbledore paused again briefly. "Ms Umbridge has been unable to find anyone willing to testify on her behalf."

_"Well, I'm not surprised,"_ Harry thought grimly. _"Who would_ want _to testify for that cow?"_

"The accused is charged with the following," Dumbledore continued, in a voice hard as stone. "Being in possession of a Class C Dark Arts Object known as a 'Blood Quill', thereby violating the International Ban on Dark Arts Objects, Section A Paragraph 12; using said Dark Arts object to inflict injury on fourteen students on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, thereby violating Section B Paragraph 14 of the same law; ordering two Dementors to stage an unprovoked attack on Harry James Potter, thereby violating the Code of Wizard-Dementor Relations, Clause One."

Umbridge had closed her eyes, muttering something Harry couldn't hear. Trying to read on her lips, he could make out: "This is not happening to me, this is not happening to me!"

"Ms Umbridge," Dumbledore said, and Umbridge's eyelids shot up. "Did you at any time during the school year 19951996 force students at Hogwarts to use the Blood Quill we have now confiscated?"

Umbridge shook her head frantically. "No, no, no, I did not!"

"Did you at August 2nd, 1995 order two Dementors to attack Mr Potter?"

_"No!"_ Umbridge shouted. Her face had now turned ashen.

"Very well," Dumbledore said. He pulled out his wand and waved it. A comfortable-looking armchair materialized a few yards to the left of Umbridge. "The Wizengamot calls forth its first witness: Harry James Potter."

That was his cue. The room erupted in whispers as Harry stepped down from the benches and sat down in the armchair. He was very careful in not even glancing at Umbridge, but he could feel her stare like a hot poker.

"Mr Potter," Dumbledore said formally, and the whispers abruptly stopped. "Were you ever given detention by Ms Umbridge during the school year 19951996?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied equally formally, and his voice carried easily across the courtroom. "Three one-week detentions."

"Could you please describe what happened during those detentions?"

"Ms Umbridge told me to write lines, using a quill that she provided. Every word I wrote with it was magically cut into the back of my hand, before the wound healed by itself. After two days, however, the wound refused to heal anymore."

"He lies!" Umbridge shrieked. "He-"

"Ms Umbridge, please be quiet. You don't have the word." Dumbledore didn't raise his voice, but the words cut through Umbridge's shriek like a knife. "Members of the Wizengamot should note that the scars on the back of Mr Potter's hand is clearly visible. Also, when the Magical Law Enforcement Squad searched Ms Umbridge's residence, they found not only a Blood Quill, but also two thousand two hundred and forty-six parchments containing the words 'I will not lie' or 'I will behave'. Every word was written in blood." Several of the Wizengamot stared at Umbridge with a disgusted look on their faces.

"Thank you, Mr Potter. You may go." As Harry got up and walked back to the benches, Dumbledore said: "The Wizengamot calls forth Lee Jordan."

Lee essentially said the same thing Harry did, except he only got one one-week detention - which was bad enough. He was followed by eleven other Hogwarts students from every house except Slytherin.

"The Wizengamot now calls forth Peter Drexler," Dumbledore said as the last student returned to the benches. A tall, thin man with brown hair that was just beginning to turn grey at his temples sat down in the armchair Dumbledore had conjured up.

"Mr Drexler, after the unprovoked Dementor-attack on Mr Potter, Madam Bones appointed you to head the investigation of the incident, correct?"

"Yes sir, it is."

"And what did you uncover?"

"Well, our first thought was to investigate the Emergency Room," Drexler said. "It is a room at Azkaban which is always manned by at least two Dementors - more in times of crisis. If the Aurors require backup from Dementors, they need only Apparate to the room and give the necessary orders. The rest of Azkaban have anti-Apparation wards everywhere out of security reasons, and the room has no exits that a wizard can use. _Only_ a Dementor can enter or leave the room without Apparating. The only other way of approaching Azkaban is by broom, and the Dementors are under strict orders to immediately inform the Ministry if that happens." Dumbledore nodded to show that he understood.

"In the Emergency Room is a magical quill which writes down everything being said, thereby logging the deployment of Dementors. We checked the parchment and found it clean as newly fallen snow. Apparently, no one had ordered the Dementors to attack Mr Potter."

"There you see!" Umbridge shouted in desperation. "I never sent Dementors after Potter!"

"Please be quiet Ms Umbridge," Dumbledore said again. "Continue, Mr Drexler."

"What not many know is that there is a second magical quill hidden in the Emergency Room, which notes the departure and arrival times of Dementors." The horrified expression that crossed Umbridge's face was priceless. "This is a closely guarded secret known only to the Minister of Magic, the Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and a few high-ranking Aurors. According to the second quill, the two Dementors in the Room left August 2nd at 7.12PM and didn't return until three hours later. After this discovery, we analysed the parchment from the first quill and discovered that someone had used an invisibility charm on parts of the writing. It took us a week to find a counter-charm, but we did it."

"Thank you, Mr Drexler. You may go," Dumbledore said. Again he addressed the rest of the Wizengamot: "According to the first quill, Ms Umbridge gave the following order to the two Dementors: 'Go to Little Whinging in Surrey and seek out Harry Potter. Give him the Kiss and then take him back to Azkaban. Kill him and burry him'" The few among the Wizengamot who had managed to keep neutral expressions on their faces now gave up and stared revolted at Umbridge.

"You have heard the witnesses, and you have seen the evidence," Dumbledore said formally. "Those in favour of administrating veritiserum to the accused, raise your hands." Every single member of the Wizengamot raised his or her hand. "Mr Goldman, if you please?"

A court aid walked over to Umbridge carrying a vial. The former High Inquisitor eyed it like one would eye a live cobra, and clamped her mouth shut. But the court aid seemed to have expected this. He pulled out his wand and muttered an incarnation Harry couldn't hear. Suddenly Umbridge opened wide, clearly against her will. The court aid emptied the vial in her mouth, lifted the charm and retreated.

"Ms Umbridge," Dumbledore said. "During your time as teacher in Defence Against the Dark Arts on Hogwarts, did you ever force students to use a Blood Quill?"

Umbridge, whose face had gone curiously slack, responded without hesitation. "Yes, several times." There was a sharp intake of breath among those gathered. Hearing the witnesses was one thing, hearing the complete and total truth was something else.

"How many students?" Dumbledore pressed.

"About a dozen, I think. I never kept count."

"Why did you do it?"

A smile of perverse delight crossed Umbridge's features. "Because I take pleasure in inflicting pain, especially on those who can't strike back. It's intoxicating to have that kind of power."

The silence that followed could hardly have been more complete. Madam Bones had dropped her monocle, and Fudge stared at his former secretary in disbelief. Dumbledore wore a carefully neutral expression, but the look in eyes was not a pretty sight.

"Did you order two Dementors to attack Mr Potter?" Dumbledore asked, and his voice was hard and flat.

"Yes, I did. It was necessary, you see." Aside from Umbridge and Dumbledore, not one person in Courtroom Ten seemed to dare breathe at this admission.

"It was necessary, you say?"

"Yes, Potter was endangering the Ministry with his foolish talk about You-Know-Who being back. I had to shut that big mouth of his, or make him disappear."

"But Mr Potter was right," Dumbledore said quietly. "Voldemort is back."

"Yes, but that is irrelevant," Umbridge said like it was the most natural thing in the world. "The Ministry would have dealt with him, once we had complete control of the wizarding population in Britain. That's what we have Aurors for."

"Don't you think it was a bit extreme to order Dementors to perform the Kiss on a fifteen year old boy?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Of course not!" Umbridge snorted. "The Ministry is _God!_ Sacrificing a young brat for the good of the Ministry is something I'd do a thousand times if I had to." Fudge hid his face in his hand, seemingly unable to bear more of this. Umbridge continued on: "No one else seemed to have the courage do what had to be done, so I decided to take matter in my own hands." A look of disappointment and anger crossed her face. "Of course, I never expected Potter to be able to conjure up a corporal Patronus and drive off the Dementors. That just fuelled my hate for him. I had taken a colossal risk for nothing."

"Thank you, Ms Umbridge. I believe we have heard enough," Dumbledore said. "Please administer the counter-potion, Mr Goldman."

Moments later Umbridge came to herself. Even from the other side of the room, Harry could see her face turn a pale green as she remembered what she had said under the effect of the veritiserum. She seemed to shrink under the glares from the Wizengamot.

Dumbledore kept silent for a few more seconds, regarding Umbridge over his half-moon spectacles. Then he turned to Bones. "Madam Bones?"

She put her monocle back into place, cleared her throat and addressed the Wizengamot. "Hum, yes. "Everyone who find the accused guilty of possessing a Blood Quill?" Every wizard and witch in plum-covered robes raised their hands. "Everyone who find the accused guilty of using the Blood Quill to inflict injury?" Again all of them raised their hands. "Everyone who find the accused guilty of ordering Dementors to perform the Kiss on an innocent?" For the third time the wizards and witches raised their hands. Many of them didn't even bother to lover them after the second time.

Madam Bones turned back to face Umbridge. "Very well. The punishment for possession of a Blood Quill is one year in Azkaban, so there is nothing to discuss there. The punishment for using a Class C Dark Arts object on anyone is three to six years, depending on circumstances." She looked at Umbridge with an unreadable expression. "Due to the severity of this particular case I recommend six years. The punishment for the last and most serious offence, intentionally ordering Dementors to perform the Kiss on an innocent, is twenty years with no appeal."

Dumbledore nodded. "I concur." He turned to Umbridge again, and it was as if he grew in front of their eyes. The ancient man positively radiated power, and the look in his eyes was colder than Harry had ever seen in any human. The message was crystal clear: _No one_ hurt his students and got away with it. "Dolores Jane Umbridge," he began, and Harry was surprised his voice didn't skin the woman alive where she sat. "The Wizengamot hereby sentence you to twenty-seven years in Azkaban Wizard Prison, to be released in 2023."

Umbridge fainted.

* * *

"Twenty-seven years," Ron exclaimed triumphantly and pumped a first into the air. Harry had just stepped out of the fireplace in the kitchen, returning from the Ministery of Magic (Dumbledore had gone directly to Hogwarts). "Twenty-seven! How old will she be when she get out?"

"Somewhere in her sixties, I think," Lupin said who just entered the room. He was actually rubbing his hands in a very un-Lupin-ish fashion. It was after all Umbridge's work that had made it nearly impossible for the werewolf to get a job.

"Hah! She'll be too weak to use a wand! Too bad there's no Dementors on Azkaban anymore, though..."

"Ron, would you really give anyone to the Dementors?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Not anyone, just Umbridge and a few others. Malfoy for instance."

Sensing the beginning of a classic Ron-Hermione argument, Harry motioned to Lupin and together they silently slipped out of the kitchen.

"I swear, they fight like a married couple," Lupin chuckled. Then he suddenly turned very serious. "Harry, there's something I need to talk to you about. Would you come with me to the drawing room?"

Harry nodded and followed him up to the second floor. In the drawing room none other than Snape waited for them, wearing his trademark scowl. "Now that you've finally found Potter, perhaps you can tell me what's so important you had to drag me from Hogwarts," he said.

Harry decided to ignore the potions teacher, and sat down in the sofa. Lupin cleared his throat and pulled a folded parchment out of his pocket. "Sirius left a will," he said, and a feeling of dread washed through Harry. "You two are the only ones who haven't heard it yet."

Snape snorted. "What does that got to do with me?"

"You are mentioned in it," Lupin said matter-of-factly.

Harry barely noticed Snape's surprise. He was too busy trying to stop his hands from trembling. It felt like the bottom of his stomach had fallen out, and he wanted nothing more than to run out of the room. All strength seemed to have left his legs, however, and he was glad he was sitting down.

"I, Sirius Black," Lupin read from the parchment, "declare this to be my last will and testament. I herby leave all my gold, estates and belongings to the persons listed below.

To Albus Dumbledore I leave 12 Grimmauld Place and all of its contents for use as headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. I also leave ten per cent of my gold for funds. Albus already knows this," Lupin added.

"To Remus Lupin I leave 25 per cent of my gold. Buy yourself a few new robes, Moony.

To Harry Potter I leave the rest of my gold (65 per cent) and my flying motorcycle, the Firestorm 225. Stop grieving over me, kid.

To Severus Snape I leave a box in the attic marked 'Snivellus'." Here Lupin pointed to a box sitting on the desk with the name Snivellus written in writing that faded from red to gold and back again.

"To Rubeus Hagrid I leave, or perhaps I should say give back, the hippogriff Buckbeak.

To Tom Riddle I leave nothing but my contempt.

I, Sirius Black, legal guardian of Harry Potter, relinquish my guardianship to Rumus Lupin.

Signed,  
Sirius Black."

By now it wasn't just Harry's hands that were trembling. He got up on shaky legs and took one step toward the door. He needed to get out of the room, to run, to hide, to forget everything. Unfortunately he feared that he'd probably end up on his face if he took another step.

"Are you alright, Harry?" came the concerned voice of Lupin.

Harry couldn't think, he just felt the overwhelming need to get out. Slowly he turned toward Lupin. "Alright? How can I be alright?" he whispered. "He is _dead_, Moony!" The admission drained him of whatever strength he had left, and he would have fallen and hit the floor hadn't Lupin grabbed him.

"I know," Lupin said heavily and guided Harry gently to the sofa. "But you need to get over it. You can't grieve for the rest of your life."

Get over it? How was Harry ever going to get over it? He had lost someone who was father, big brother and friend all in one! Harry looked angrily up at Lupin to say just that when he noticed the older man's misty eyes. Parts of his mind began working again, and he finally realized that _he_ wasn't the only one who had lost a good friend. Lupin and Sirius had been friends since Hogwarts, just like Harry and Ron and Hermione. Not to mention that Lupin had now lost Sirius _twice_ - first when he had thought Sirius had betrayed Harry's parents, and then a second time to Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry cursed himself for his selfishness, and the words he was about to say died on his lips.

"Moony, I'm sorry," Harry instead said pleadingly. "I never wanted this to happen."

"Of course you didn't," Lupin said. He sat down beside Harry and put an arm around him, like a father comforting his son. "You must stop blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was," Harry said solemnly. "Oh, maybe not all of it. Like Dumbledore said: I'm not going to be so arrogant to assume I carry all the blame. But I _am_ to blame for Sirius' death, Lupin." It hurt to say that. More than anyone would ever know, maybe except Lupin, but it had to be said. "And I will assume full responsibility for my actions."

Throughout the exchange, Snape had been poking the box Sirius had left him with his wand and casting diagnostics charms. Now he looked up with eyes filled with surprise, apprehension and... could it be _respect?_

"The box isn't jinxed," Lupin said quietly. "I've checked."

Snape's mask were back in place so fast, Harry wasn't sure he'd seen what he'd thought he'd seen. Gingerly the potions teacher opened and reached into the box, as if he half expected it to explode.

"Merlin's beard!" he suddenly exclaimed, standing there with an old and worn book in his hands. "Using _Potions for Transfigurations_, written by Circe herself! There are only six copies of this book in the entire world!" He looked into the box again, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Snape's hand trembled when he lifted out another book, equally old and worn. "Merlin's _Guide to Rare Potions_," he said reverently. "I don't believe it."

Suddenly a suspicious expression clouded his face, and he turned to Lupin. "These two books alone are worth a fortune, and if the other books in that box is even remotely as rare, I'd become one of the richest men in England if I sell them. So why would Black leave all this to _me_ of all people?" he demanded "Is it an attempt to put me into debt?"

"No," Lupin said flatly. "For the true reason you'd have to ask Sirius, but he isn't around anymore. However, if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say that the contents of that box is a peace offering." Snape didn't say anything, but looked questioningly on him. "James always regretted the way he treated you while we were in Hogwarts, and although he never admitted it I suspect so did Sirius. This is his way of saying he's sorry for what he did."

Snape glanced at the book in his hand, clearly battling with himself whether to accept Sirius' 'peace offering' or not. Eventually the Potions Master in him won, and Snape took the box and left the room without another word.

Harry and Lupin sat in silence for a while. "So, you are okay with me being your new legal guardian?" Lupin finally asked with a smile.

Harry found himself grinning back. "If you are ready to take care of a walking disaster area like me."

"Well, at least you aren't an incurable prankster like James was," Lupin said. "When I first came to Hogwarts as a professor I half-expected to find the castle in ruins, with both you and the Weasley twins there. Guess you've got too much of Lilly in you."

Right then, Tonks poked her head in. "I saw Sevvie go. Is everything alright?"

"Sure," Lupin said. "You can come in now." Tonks walked in and was shortly followed by Mad-eye. Harry looked curiously on them, wondering what was going on.

"Harry," Lupin said gently. "By now you must know that you top Voldemort's list of people to kill." Harry nodded to the obvious statement. "Since there it's more than likely that you will run into Death Eaters again, if not Voldemort himself, we have decided to give you an offer."

Harry noticed that Tonks had difficulty standing still, and even Mad-eye was looking at him expectantly.

"We know that you have resumed your training in Occlumency," Lupin continued. "But we were wondering if you would also like to receive some... _physical_ training?"

Harry stared at them. "Are you offering to train me in duelling?" he asked with an I-don't-dare-believe-it look.

"Sure, why not?" Tonks said enthusiastically. "You're going to need it, from what I've heard about your adventures at Hogwarts."

Mad-eye nodded in agreement. "Never hurts being prepared, boy. Dumbledore doesn't know about it yet, but I'm sure he won't have anything against it."

"But why are you doing this?" Harry asked dumbfounded. "I'm not exactly critical to the Order," he added to see if Dumbledore had told them about the prophecy.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Lupin said and shook his head with a smile. "Isn't that obvious? We do it of the same reason me, Tonks, Mad-eye and Arthur confronted your relatives before the summer."

Harry was speechless. He couldn't possibly find the words to express what this meant to him. But as he looked into the eyes of the grown-ups he realized that they already knew.

"So, what do you say?" Tonks asked impatiently.

"Hell, yes!" Harry said fervently. "Hell, yes!"

* * *

****

******Author's notes:** Hope that trial looked somewhat realistic... I haven't the faintest idea how one conduct a trial in real life, and in any case a wizard trial would differ quite a bit. For instance, lawyers would be rather redundant when you have veritiserum.

I'm also really sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. I've been away from my computer and therefore unable to write.

**Chapter re-uploaded 2004-06-11: **As several of you pointed out, I for some reason thought that the name of Harry's father was 'Jacob' instead of 'James' (embarrassing!). Also, its 'veritiserum', not 'verifiserum'. I've corrected those two errors and re-uploaded the chapter.

**Madfoot Moony: **Yes, we'll find out about the transformations and voices... eventually.

**Xessive: **Yes, I was inspired by the Wheel of Time. And the Prophet, that loon, would probably start a holly crusade or something.

**Yugioh/Potter/Pokemon fanatic: **Glad you like it. Ruskbyte? Can't say I've read it. I presume it is pre-OotP?

**Stahchild: **Thanks for pointing that out.

**Heart and Mind: **Sorry, but Gwendolyn Ingolfsson isn't the new DADA teacher... he'll be introduced in the next chapter.


	5. A New Friend

**Chapter 5: A New Friend**

  
The days passed like a dream. Harry's abilities in Occlumency steadily improved with Dumbledore as mentor, and he no longer required advance warning before Dumbledore struck him with Legimency. He was now capable of keeping Dumbledore out of his thoughts for over three minutes, always using the same technique to clear his mind - which for some reason seemed to amuse the ancient wizard to no end.

Then there was duelling training with either Lupin, Tonks or Mad-eye. Harry was surprised to learn that Lupin was actually an accomplished duellist. After a week he confided to Harry that he, Harry's father and Sirius used to practise duelling well into the night during their time at Hogwarts. Take his werewolf-enchanted reflexes into account and Lupin was a formidable opponent, not to mention Tonks and Mad-eye. In the beginning, Ron had also been very interested in learning to duel, until he took one look at Harry being thrown around the room by Mad-eye and muttered something about having homework to do.

Between Occlumency and duelling training, Harry didn't have much spare time left. However, that didn't prevent him from sitting bent over potions books when he could. Ron complained that Hermione had brainwashed him, until Harry pointed out that Snape would love to drop him from NEWT Potions.

The nightmares became less and less frequent, with the effect that Harry was now able to actually get a good night of sleep. He still grieved over the loss of Sirius, but now he was at least dealing with it.

The booklist from Hogwarts arrived near the end of the month, among with a few more letters from DA members - but not from Cho, which Harry had half hoped and half feared. Unlike Ron and Hermione, he had already bought all books necessary for the NEWT level, except _Herbs You Didn't Know Existed, And Where To Find Them Now That You Have a Clue_ for Herbology. Mr Weasley offered to buy it for him, but Harry decided he wanted to go with Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna anyway.

Since each had different things that needed doing, they decided to split up and meet at the _Leaky Cauldron_ after two hours.

III

_"Of course they wouldn't let me go without a babysitter,"_ Harry thought resigned as he exited the shop with Mr Weasley close behind. Harry had grown quite a bit during the previous year, which had made necessary the purchase of new robes from Madam Malkin's.

"Where to next, Harry?" Mr Weasley said while looking suspiciously at passers-by.

Harry thought for a moment. He had already been at the Apothecary and restocked with potion ingredients, so he had only left to buy that Herbology-book. Before he could do that, however, he needed to visit his vault at Gringotts. He only had a couple Sickles left.

"Gringotts, and then Flourish & Blotts."

Diagon Ally was not as Harry remembered it. Instead of the busy cheerfulness it was something subdued about the way people behaved. They glanced nervously over their shoulders as they hurried up and down the street, and when they stopped to greet an old friend they talked in low voices. The presence of Aurors and members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad did nothing to lighten the mood. That didn't keep Harry from hearing the whispers as he went past them, however.

"Hey, isn't that the Potter-boy? The one beside the red-haired man?"

"Blimey, you're right!"

"To think that he has survived encountering You-Know-Who - how many times is it, now? Four, five times?"

Harry ignored them as best he could, and breathed out in relief when he and Mr Weasley finally entered Gringotts. He supposed he should be glad that people didn't think he was an attention seeking child or a nutcase anymore, but all the whispers and the stares was getting on his nerves - and he hadn't even returned to Hogwarts yet!

"I'll be waiting here," Mr Weasley said. "I'm not allowed down into the vaults unless I'm are going to make a deposit or withdrawal." Harry nodded.

"I wish to make a withdrawal from vault 687," Harry told one of the goblins behind the counter and handed him the key.

The goblin examined the key thoroughly. "It seems to be in order. Griphook!" he shouted, and the very same goblin that had served as a guide for Harry and Hagrid the first time he came to Gringotts suddenly popped up of nowhere. "Escort the customer to the vaults along with the other one." The goblin bowed and motioned for Harry to follow him.

"Hello, Griphook," Harry said to the goblin. "Nice seeing you again."

The goblin nearly missed a step from sheer surprise. "Have we met before, young sir?"

"Yes, it was you who escorted me to my vault back in '91."

Griphook stared strangely at Harry. "And you have been remembering me all these years?" he said surprised.

"Of course I have," Harry said and frowned. "Something wrong?"

"No, no, it's just that not many wizards bother to remember goblins," Griphook explained. "Not to mention actually greeting one."

Harry shrugged. "Guess you haven't met many decent wizards, then."

"Maybe so, Mr Potter," Griphook said as he opened one of the many doors in the chamber. "Maybe so."

"That's about time - _Potter?_" said an all to familiar voice. Harry groaned inwardly in dismay as he saw Draco Malfoy standing in the entrance to the stone cavern. Out of all people in the world, this had to be the other customer the goblin had mentioned.

"Well, Potter," Malfoy snarled. "I didn't expect to see you here. Have you come to withdraw your last remaining Sickle?"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As always Malfoy had to flaunt the wealth of his family. "Are we going to do what we came here for, or are we going to keep talking?" he asked calmly.

Malfoy looked furious when Harry refused to take the bait. "You, goblin," he said rudely. "Take us to my vault first - number 806."

"Yes, sir," the goblin said stiffly and whistled for a cart.

Harry suddenly felt a presence in his mind. Instinctively he knew who it was: _"So this is Malfoy,"_ Lightning said with distaste. _"What a pile of snot!"_ Harry couldn't help but snicker over the remark and Malfoy gave him a funny look.

The journey through the narrow caverns was done in total silence. Malfoy glared at Harry, while Harry himself just ignored the Slytherin. He would not let Malfoy bait him this time. Griphook seemed to have been deeply insulted, and didn't say a word except when he asked for Malfoy's key when they arrived at vault 806.

The pile of Galleons behind the door was significant, and Harry estimated that it was at least the size of his own. Malfoy seemed to take pleasure in scooping up more gold than he could possibly need for buying school supplies.

"Dad set up a trust fund for me when I entered Hogwarts," Malfoy said arrogantly as the cart began moving again. "It's only a tiny part of the family fortune, of course."

"Very smart of him considering recent events," Harry said innocently.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed in anger. "Why, you-!"

"Vault 687," Griphook called out, and Harry jumped out of the cart and handed the gnome the key before Malfoy could complete the sentence. He wasn't going to childishly compare his savings with Malfoy's.

Harry had barely completed the thought when the door to his vault opened and revealed a virtual _mountain_ of Galleons. For one shocked moment Harry thought he had somehow managed to open the wrong vault, but then he remembered that Sirius had left him more than half of the Black family fortune. The memory of Sirius' death brought a pang of sorrow, but unlike four weeks ago he no longer broke down when thinking about it. Yet, he could still feel the aching place in his heart where a giant had once lived.

Giving himself a shake, he bent down and picked up a few Galleons. Not nearly as much as Malfoy, but enough to last him until next summer. Malfoy seemed to take it as a personal insult that Harry had more money than he did, and he scowled at him all the way back. Harry just looked back with a carefully neutral expression.

"Is everything okay with the mudbloods and bloodtraitors you are keeping around?" Malfoy sneered as they disembarked. "Because I heard your little _dog_ got killed!"

Harry had promised himself not to let Malfoy get under his skin, but the verbal assault was so sudden, so cruel, he reacted without a thought. Quidditch-honed reflexes spun him around in a blur, and pain lanced up his arm as his knuckles impacted on Malfoy's jaw with a sickening crack. Harry had always been rather small for his age, but the punch still carried enough force to knock the Slytherin on his back. Malfoy's head rebounded from the impact on the stone floor.

Griphook bent down to study the unmoving Malfoy. "Hm. He's out cold," he gloated. "Nice job."

"Thanks," Harry said and pulled out a handkerchief to tie around his split and bleeding knuckles. "But I guess I've put you into trouble now, haven't I?"

Griphook grinned up at him. "Not at all, young sir. This particular costumer was silly enough to stand up in a moving cart, with the unfortunate consequence that he collided rather violently with a stalactite."

Mr Weasley was still waiting patiently for him in the main hall. "Ready to go?" he asked, but then frowned as he saw the handkerchief Harry had wrapped around his hand. "What happened to you?"

"I ran into Malfoy junior," Harry said and shrugged. "He mentioned Sirius and I, well-"

"Let me see that. You can't just walk around punching people, you know," Mr Weasley scolded half-heartedly as he removed the handkerchief and began studying Harry's knuckles.

"No?" Harry looked up at Mr Weasley with the most innocent expression he could muster. "I seem to remember you and Malfoy senior meeting in Flourish & Blotts-"

"That's enough, thank you," Mr Weasley interrupted, but he did so with a grin.

III

"You got into a _fight?_" I wasn't the first time Harry wondered how Mrs Weasley managed to look so intimidating. One moment she was sitting by the table along with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, in the next she was standing with her firsts on hips and looking frighteningly much like a dragon with a toothache.

"Blimey, mate!" Ron exclaimed and slapped Harry's back. "Good job!"

"Absolutely not!" Mrs Weasley said. "How can you _say_ such a thing-!"

"Molly, please," Mr Weasley said, who now looked like he regretted telling her about it. "Sit down, you're making a scene."

Mrs Weasley looked around at all the heads turned in their direction and sat down quickly. "What were you thinking, Harry? A public fight-!"

"It was no fight," Harry said defensively, and shied away from Mrs Weasley's and Hermione's disapproving stares. Ginny contented herself to rolling her eyes. "I mean, he never punched me _back_-"

"That's not the point-" Mrs Weasley suddenly interrupted herself, looking at something behind Harry.

"Excuse me. May I talk to you one moment, Harry?" came a familiar female voice.

Harry turned in his chair to find Cho Chang standing behind him with a nervous expression on her face. She looked nearly exactly as he remembered her; the same shiny black hair and the same dark eyes. Although she seemed to have grown a lot during the summer, Harry was still half a head taller than her.

"Sure," Harry said and got up. _"At least she isn't crying this time."_

They walked over to a table in the corner of the dining room and sat down. Cho didn't meet his eyes, which Harry could understand. He felt rather awkward himself. "Well... I- I'm waiting for Michael," she stuttered. "We were supposed to meet here."

Harry nodded and frowned. Had she dragged him here just to tell him that she was going out with someone else? He already knew that, thank you very much!

Cho seemed to pull herself together. "Listen, if you decide to continue with the DA, we'll be seeing a lot to each other. So... I was hoping we could burry the hatchet, so to speak. You know, become friends?" she finished hopefully.

A feeling of immense relief flooded through Harry. Ever since he had received her letter he had dreaded meeting her and Michael Corner if he chose to continue the DA, and now the problem solved itself.

"That's a deal," Harry grinned and held out a hand. She took it. "I'm sorry about last year, Cho-"

Cho waved the apology away. "It's okay. Sometimes things just doesn't work out-"

"What's going on here?" someone asked in a stone-hard voice. Harry turned to find Cho's current boyfriend, Michael Corner, standing there with firsts on hips and glaring daggers on Harry.

_"Oh, great,"_ Harry thought. _"Jealous boyfriend. Hurray."_

"Harry and I was just talking about the DA," Cho said annoyed. "Besides he was just about to leave. Right, Harry?"

"Right," Harry said and got up. "Bye, Cho."

Neville and Luna had arrived while Harry was talking with Cho, and Neville was busy showing Ron his new wand as Harry sat down beside them. "Eleven inches, made of oak with a unicorn tail hair in the core. Ollivander said it's excellent for charm work- oh, hi Harry."

"Hi, Neville," Harry said. "Your grandmother didn't give you too hard a time after you broke your previous wand, did she?"

"No, she barely mentioned it," Neville said proudly. "Once she got over the shock, she began ranting about how I've proven myself to be a true Longbottom and that she'd never doubt me again."

"Good for you," Harry said, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Mrs Weasley, Hermione and Ginny all wore that completely innocent expression that made Harry sure they had stopped talking about him about half a second before he sat down. "Have I mentioned the Perspicus Jinx that Tonks taught me?" Harry asked lightly. "It turns the clothes of the victim transparent. If any of you continue to discuss my private life I might be inclined to use it." Their blushing told him everything he wanted to know.

"We weren't discussing your private life," Hermione said. "We were just wondering what's going on between you and Cho."

"Well, for your information there's nothing beyond friendship," Harry said with a note of finality in his voice.

"Oh? That boy over there doesn't seem to think so," Mrs Weasley said with a crocked brow. Harry glanced over his shoulder and saw Cho and Michael in a heated discussion. He didn't need Legimency in order to guess who the subject of their conversation was.

"Yeah, well, I guess he's the jealous type," Harry said.

"That he is," Ginny said firmly, who had been dating Michael briefly. "_And_ a sore loser I might add."

Mrs Weasley eyed her daughter strangely. "You know, Ginny, perhaps you and I need to have a little chat soon... about boys and stuff."

The absolutely horrified expression on Ginny's face was enough to make the entire table erupt into laughter.

III

But the day wasn't quite over yet, as Harry thought when he went to bed that night. For some reason he kept tossing and turning, unable to sleep. After a couple hours he got up to get something to drink. The snores coming from the other bed announced that Ron was sound asleep, so Harry exited the room as silently as possible.

He had just closed the door softly behind him when he heard the front door opening and a voice that whispered: "Get in, quickly."

His curiosity perked, Harry peeked carefully over the banister. Tonks and Hestia Jones, who had been part of the 'advance guard' last year, were motioning for someone to come in. The man who entered was huge. Draped in a cloak, with a hood that hid his face, he towered head and shoulders over the two women. Although his robes hid every feature, Harry got the distinct impression that he could easily punch a hole in the wall. The huge man was shortly followed by a second man, this one dressed in black robes and with a Death Eater-mask that covered his face.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. A Death Eater? _Here?_ That was impossible! His panic-stricken brain shouted for him to wake Ron and the others; they had to get out and warn Dumbledore. But then a tiny and oddly calm voice in his head told him that it actually _was_ impossible. Dumbledore was the Secret-Keeper for Grimauld Place, which meant the Death Eater had to be-

Harry breathed out in relief as the Death Eater removed his mask, revealing the face of Severus Snape and confirming Harry's suspicion. He had long since deduced that Snape acted as a spy for the order.

"Alright, get him into the kitchen," Snape said curtly. "I'll go and inform Dumbledore the operation was successful."

"Not needed, Severus. I'm already here." Harry hadn't heard the kitchen doors opening, and now Dumbledore strode into the hall. The old wizard was fully dressed and had obviously been expecting them. He stopped in front of the huge man and looked smiling up into the hooded face. "No need to hide yourself anymore, Phelan Ravensdale. You are among friends, now."

The man who had to be Ravensdale seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, but then pulled his hood back. For a moment Harry thought he was still in bed and that all this was just a dream, either that or he was seeing things. For there was no mistaking the man for being anything else; the pointed ears, the muzzle, the dark fur that covered his face... he was a werewolf.

Harry had learned about werewolves in his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. They were creatures of rage and violence, to be feared almost as much as Dementors. Any unarmed human approaching a werewolf would be _lucky_ just to be torn apart. The unlucky ones would get bitten and turned into the very same creature they feared. And this werewolf was just standing there, making no threatening gestures whatsoever.

"If you'd come with me?" Dumbledore said. "I've arranged a safe location for you to stay. I think you'll like it."

The werewolf nodded and followed Dumbledore across the hall. Just as they entered the kitchen, the creature cast a nearly casual glance up at Harry. It _would_ have been casual if he hadn't looked Harry directly in the eyes and barred his fangs in something that was unmistakably a grin.

IIIII

**Author's notes:** Keep in mind that the werewolves in my fanfic (and, I hope, in JK Rowling's books) are nothing at all like in the movie version of _the Prisoner of Azkaban_. I mean, the damn thing looked like it had Anorexia! So please, when you read the word 'werewolf' don't think they look like that.

**adam:** Psst! Are you out there? I sent you a mail about that beta reader thing, but didn't receive a reply. Since I'm trying not let more than a week pass between each chapter I just went ahead and posted it, but I'm still interested in getting a beta reader.

**auditoriumnazi:** Tonks isn't on good terms with Snape at all. 'Sevvie' is just a nickname she uses behind his back, kind of like 'Snivellus' but not that cruel.


	6. Home to Hogwarts

**Chapter 6: Home to Hogwarts**

  
"Are you sure it was a werewolf?" Hermione asked yet again, and Harry groaned to himself. He had long since lost count over how many times she had asked that same question since that night a week ago.

"He had a muzzle and fangs sharp enough to bite your arm off," Harry said annoyed and put the last volume of _Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts_ in his trunk. "So, yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"I don't get it," Hermione said frowning from where she sat on Harry's bed. "The moon wasn't full that night. And a werewolf should in any case have attacked Dumbledore rather than obediently following him into the kitchen."

"Perhaps they drugged it?" Ron suggested as he carelessly dumped a handful of socks in his own trunk.

"Maybe," Hermione said doubtfully. "It would have to be a pretty potent drug just to have any effect at all on a werewolf."

"He wasn't drugged," Harry said and closed his trunk. "I've told you, he looked like he still had his wits with him, like... like his mind was still human."

"Even the Wolfsbane Potion won't let anyone stay in werewolf form with a human mind," Hermione objected. "Perhaps some kind of very powerful transfigurative charm to make him _look_ like a werewolf... but what would the point be?"

Right then the door opened and Lupin strolled in with his hands in his pockets. "Morning. Is everyone ready?"

"Almost," Harry said. "Neville is still looking for Trevor. By the way, how will we get to King's Cross Station?"

"Arthur has managed to borrow a couple Ministry cars," Lupin said with a grin. "Fudge has been awfully friendly as of late - obviously in an attempt to repair some of the political damage. In any case -" his mood sobered "- I just wanted say that as soon as we reach Platform 9 ¾ you should get onboard the train as quickly as possible. Voldemort may be quiet, but the Hogwarts Express will be an extremely tempting target for him. In one stroke he can demoralize the entire wizarding world." Everyone shuddered at the thought of Death Eaters suddenly appearing at the platform and killing students.

"Of course, Platform 9 ¾ will be heavily defended if the rumours are true," Lupin continued. "Aurors will be patrolling both it and the train itself, covered by a squad of Hit Wizards. There are also Anti-Apparation Wards all over the place. In all honesty, I think the number of Death Eaters Voldemort will loose in an attack on the Hogwarts Express is more than he can afford at this point."

Harry found himself praying that Lupin was right.

III

Judging by the line of people carrying trunks, broomsticks and birdcages waiting to pass through the magical barrier on King's Cross Station, it seemed as if many wizarding parents had waited until the last moment before following their children to Platform 9 ¾. Harry could understand the logic in it; the less time they spent on the platform, the less chance there were of getting caught up in the middle a Death Eater attack. Unfortunately, with the magical barrier acting as a bottleneck, it took fifteen minutes of nervously glancing over their shoulders before it became their turn to pass through.

Harry gasped in relief as he entered Platform 9 ¾, escaping at last the curious glances from Muggles. The first sight that met him was no other than Tonks in full Auror uniform; pitch black robes with a badge in the form of a golden eye.

"Hi, Harry," she murmured as she caught sight of him. "Remember; classroom nine every Sunday at 9PM." Harry nodded, just as Neville, Luna and Hermione came through the barrier along with Mrs Weasley.

Further down the platform, one Auror was continuously repeating the same words in a magically amplified voice: "There is no cause for alarm, but the Ministry of Magic would appreciate it if you would please board the Hogwarts Express as quickly as possible. I repeat; there is no cause for alarm..."

Mr Weasley put one hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come on, let's go," he said with some concern.

As the rest of the kids boarded the train, Mrs Weasley held back Harry, Ron and Hermione with a pained expression. "One moment you three; I want you to promise me to keep out of trouble this year. That goes _especially_ for you, Harry."

"Hey, I never go looking for trouble," Harry objected. "It's the trouble that usually finds me, you know."

"I know that, but-" she drew a ragged breath, and her eyes misted over. "Loosing you would be like loosing any of my sons, Harry. So please, no heroics this year."

"I'll do my best, Mrs Weasley," Harry said and meant it. "I don't want to come closer to a Death Eater than I have to."

Mrs Weasley nodded solemnly, knowing that was all she was going to get, and then she gave Ron a piercing look. "And you! You are not going of on another adventure, chasing Death Eaters again, right?"

"Um, not unless I have to," Ron said. Harry and Hermione couldn't hold back a snicker at that.

Mrs Weasley looked up at the sky as if she was asking for divine intervention. Realizing that whatever god residing up there was probably laughing at her, she lowered her eyes to Hermione. "As for you; well, you may not be my daughter, but-"

"I'll be careful," Hermione said with a grin. "But if I'm going to keep these two safe, I'll have to follow them wherever they go, right?"

Mrs Weasley let out a groan. "Get on the train before I hex the whole lot of you. Go on, shoo!"

After putting their luggage into place in the compartment Ginny, Neville and Luna had held off for them, Hermione mentioned that she and Ron had to go to the usual Prefect meeting. Harry just nodded and sank gratefully down into a seat as the train began moving.

"So, Ginny; are you looking forward to seeing Dean?" Harry grinned, remembering Ginny's comment to Ron the last time they were on the Hogwarts Express.

Ginny blushed. "Whatever you do, don't mention him when Ron's nearby. He's been dropping hints all summer about how 'unsuitable' Dean is. I've never figured out why older brothers get so angry at their sister's boyfriends."

Harry shrugged. "Well, try to look at it from Ron's point of view. One moment you're his baby sister, in the next you're snogging with one of his dorm mates."

Neville snickered as Ginny blushed even more, and got a death-glare in return. "Dean and I have never snogged!" she denied. "We were just starting our relationship when the semester ended!"

Up until now, Luna had been staring dreamily out of the window, humming 'Weasley is our king' under her breath. Now she looked at Ginny and said: "Oh? I thought I saw you and Dean kissing near the Astronomy Tower the day before the Hogwarts Express arrived."

"One kiss! That's _hardly_ what I'd define as snogging!" Ginny exclaimed, which caused Harry and Neville to break out in outright laughter. "And you are a fine one to talk, Romeo!" she snapped at Harry. "You who have half the girls in Hogwarts looking at you!"

Harry's mouth closed with a snap. "Half the girls-? Oh, very funny, Ginny. If that's true I would have known about it."

Ginny cocked a brow. "How many girls asked you out for the Yule Ball in your fourth year?"

"About five," Harry admitted. "But that was just because I was in the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"Oh, Harry." Ginny shook her head with a grin. "You can be so naive at times. Let me see; in your first year I wasn't there, so I really can't tell. And in your second year - my first - nearly everyone thought you were assaulting students, so no one dared go near you. In your third year, however, it seemed like every girl on the school were sighing over your eyes or the cute way your hair stood up."

Harry goggled at her. The cute way his hair stood up? Beside him, Neville had covered his mouth with one hand in an effort to silence his sniggers.

"Of course nobody dared ask the Boy Who Lived for a date, although there was plenty of talk about you going on in the dormitories at night," Ginny continued with an impish grin. "Your fourth year we've already talked about, and in your fifth the girls stayed away from you because they all thought you were an attention-seeking lunatic," she finished triumphantly. "Of course, _this_ year will be quite different from the previous one. Now you are the conquering hero who stuck to his story despite the _Daily Prophet's_ smear campaign, and who defended the Ministry against Death Eaters."

Harry shook his head in denial. "That's rubbish," he said.

Ginny snorted. "Hardly. Not only are you the Boy Who Lived and a Quidditch star, but you're also the boy who fights Death Eaters or face You-Know-Who once a week. In any case, you'll see for yourself one we reach-" She interrupted herself as the door went up and Dean Thomas stuck his head in.

"Hi, Ginny! I've been looking all over for you," he said brightly. Ginny smiled up at him with a Luna-like expression as he sat down beside her.

"Excuse me for a moment," Harry smirked. "I need to use the toilet."

"And I think I'll go to find the food cart," Neville said quickly and got up along with Harry. Luna for her part seemed to have wandered off into her little dream world again.

Neville managed to close the compartment door behind them before both he and Harry broke out in laughter. "Did you see the way she was looking at him?" Neville exclaimed. "Like a cat on a pitcher of milk!"

"True," said Harry snickered. "Although I don't envy him once we get back to our dormitory. You'll help me keep Ron from murdering him, right?"

"I'll try, Harry. I'll try."

III

Harry was just exiting the toilet when he saw the three Slytherins standing in front of him. Immediately he kicked himself for forgetting Dumbledore's words: _"...you are more unpopular among the Slytherins than ever before, for obvious reasons - especially to young Mr Malfoy."_

"Morning, Potter," Malfoy drawled, who looked paler and more sinister than ever. "Thought I saw you sneaking around here, like some stray _dog_." Beside him Crabbe and Goyle grunted with laughter.

Harry simply ignored the sting in his heart and the thinly veiled reference to Sirius, something he wouldn't have been able to do as little as a month ago. "Hello, Malfoy. How's the jaw?" he said coldly.

Malfoy stroked his jaw with a finger. "You'll pay for what you did to me and my family!" he whispered fiercely. "Do you think Azkaban can hold my father now that the Dementors have sided with the Dark Lord? You'll meet the same fate Sirius Black did!"

"I've heard threats like that before, Malfoy," said Harry with distain. "From a much more powerful wizard than you; his name is Voldemort." Harry grinned in satisfaction as Malfoy and his two cronies jumped back with a startled expression on their faces. "What's the matter?" he taunted. "Can't bear to hear the name of your so-called 'Dark Lord?'"

"You are not worthy of speaking his name, filth!" Malfoy shouted and reached for his wand. So did Crabbe and Goyle. Harry concentrated briefly, and with a satisfying _click_ the wand holster strapped to the underside of his forearm spat out his own wand.

"Oh, so you think you can win a duel against all three of us, do you?" Malfoy sneered. "Remember there's no one from you little fan club to save you this time."

"Isn't there?" came another voice Harry instantly recognized. Behind Malfoy, partially obscured by the huge bulk of Crabbe, stood Neville with his brand new wand in hand, glaring defiantly at the Slytherins.

Malfoy snorted contemptuously. "What do you want, Longbottom? Aid Scarhead over here? You'd be more of a liability than any help."

"I saw Neville attack Antonin Dolohov in the Department of Mysteries, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. "But if you think you're a better duellist than Dolohov, then just go ahead and try to curse him. I'll gather up the pieces of you afterward and dump them in the deepest hole I can find."

Malfoy gave Harry a baffled look, and then glanced at Neville who stood there looking oddly confident. Not something anyone would have expected from someone who accidentally melted his cauldron every second week.

Suddenly Malfoy's arrogance and self-confidence seemed to return to him. "Nice try, Potter," he sneered. "But we are still three against-"

"What's going on here?" a deep and calm voice interrupted. Harry looked over his shoulder and smiled in relief as he saw Shacklebolt standing there in the same Auror uniform as Tonks. Quickly he put his wand back in the holster, and Shacklebolt glared at Malfoy until he did the same. "Now I think you should all go back to your compartments," Shacklebolt said. Malfoy left with a sour expression and his cronies shortly followed, while Harry and Neville went in the opposite direction.

"Phew! That was a close one," said Neville relieved. "Don't know what I would have done if he had actually tried to curse me."

"Shield charm, Neville," said Harry. "I taught it to you in the DA."

Neville looked doubtful "Yeah, but... since his father is a Death Eater, Malfoy must be a lot better at duelling than I am."

"You don't know that," Harry objected. "Have you ever seen him duel? The only thing wrong with you is your lack of confidence." He was about to argue further when he suddenly heard his name coming out of the half-closed door to a compartment.

"... Harry and I are just friends!"

He stopped in his tracks and listened for everything he was worth. He knew that voice.

"Friends?" came the voice of Michael Corner. "Then why were you and him holding hands at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"We weren't holding hands, we were _shaking_ hands!" Cho replied angrily, who had obviously lost her patience. "I wish you could stop being so jealous!"

"Jealous?" Michael scoffed. "I'm not jealous! I'm just wondering why you have suddenly gotten so cosy with her your _ex_-boyfriend."

"Harry, are you coming?" said Neville, who had stopped when he saw Harry wasn't following. Realizing that being caught eavesdropping by Cho and Michael might not be good for his health, Harry quickly got moving again.

III

Harry knocked on the compartment door to be sure he wasn't interrupting anything between Ginny and Dean. He knew he could have saved himself the trouble when he heard Hermione's voice: "Come in." Inside he found Ginny staring at the opposite wall with her arms crossed in front of her, while Ron was giving her annoyed glances. Hermione for her part sat in between and tried to start a conversation. Dean had apparently wisely retreated a long time ago.

"Is something wrong, Ron?" asked Harry as he found himself a place to sit.

"Wrong?" Ron snorted. "Let me see; first Hermione and I arrive at the prefect meeting only to find out that Malfoy is still a prefect. I thought he had lost the badge after his involvement with the Inquisitorial Squad - not to mention that his father is a Death Eater! And _then_" - he shot Ginny an annoyed look - "we walk in here to find Ginny holding hands with _Dean_ of all people. Finally, she kisses him right in front of my eyes!" Ron somehow made kissing his sister sound like a capital offence.

"It was just a good-bye kiss!" Ginny snapped. "And you didn't have anything against Dean the previous year!"

"That was before he seduced my little sister!" Ron shot back.

"_Seduced_ me? That's ridiculous, Ron! Dean and I have been friends for ages, even back when I was dating Michael Corner."

_"Well, at least it is a change from Ron and Hermione arguing,"_ Harry thought amused, and settled down for a very long trip.

III

"Firs' years over here! Firs' years over here!" Hagrid bellowed happily as Harry and the others disembarked the Hogwarts Express. "Hello, Harry. Everything alright?"

Harry waved back and smiled in response, while manoeuvre around a crowd of nervous first years along with Ron and Hermione. _"Blimey, was I really that small, once?"_ he thought. It seemed like an eternity since he was ferried across the lake by Hagrid. Incredible how much had changed since then.

"Hi, Harry!"

Harry looked up and saw Lavendar Brown waving enthusiastically to him. "Uh, hello Lavendar," he said a bit confused. Lavendar had rarely said as much as two words to him before, except at DA meetings.

"See you up at the castle," she called, and smiled at him. Harry stared after her as she disappeared in the crowd.

Although he knew they were going to be there, it was still a shock to see the Thestrals pulling the school carriages. While definitely scary, Harry felt a strange sense of friendship with the winged horses. Smiling to himself he reached out to pat one of them. The Thestral turned its head and regarded him with its eerie white eyes.

"Hey, Harry," Ron suddenly called. "There's a free carriage here. You coming?"

Harry quickly got inside the carriage. Unfortunately, after he, Ron and Hermione had taken their seats, there were still room enough for another - Parvati Patil.

"Hello, Harry!" she gushed as the carriage began moving. "I hear you and I are taking many of the same subjects for the NEWT level. Perhaps we can study together?"

Harry blinked startled at her. How could she possibly know what NEWT subjects he had taken? He looked at Hermione, who were trying to stifle giggles, and Ron, who were giving him a 'here's-your-chance-go-ahead' look. "Um, perhaps," Harry said carefully.

"Oh, great!" Parvati said enthusiastically and battered her eyelashes. "I'm really struggling in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I'm sure you'll be a great help there."

Harry began seriously contemplating jumping off the carriage.

III

After a few minutes of giving non-committal answers to Parvati's poorly disguised advances, the carriage finally arrived at the gates and Harry rushed out. "Real smooth, mate," Ron said after catching up. "Why didn't you just say yes when she asked about help with homework tomorrow evening?"

"Because I've seen rocks with more brains than her?" Harry suggested sarcastically. Could any of that nonsense Ginny had spoken about on the train really be true? It still seemed insane to him, but...

"Mr Potter and Mr Weasley!" Someone calling out over the noise of students filling into the Great Hall caught their attention. It was Professor McGonagall, standing beside Katie Bell and looking as strict as ever.

"Are you two in trouble already?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "We barely got here!"

"Of course we aren't," Ron said insulted. "Have some faith in us."

"If you three would accompany me," McGonagall said. "I have to talk to you for a moment." They followed her to an empty classroom, and she shut the door behind her.

"Now that Ms Johnson has graduated from Hogwarts, the Gryffindor Quidditch team is in dire need of a good captain. The choice is between you three, so I thought I'd have a word with you before I made up my mind. Ms Bell, you have the most experience-"

Katie held up her hands to stall her. "Sorry professor, but don't look at me. I saw what kind of pressure Angelina was under the previous year, and I don't think I'll be able to handle the stress."

McGonagall nodded in acknowledgement. "Well, that leaves you, Mr Potter, and you, Mr Weasley. Mr Potter, I must admit I'm inclined to giving the captaincy to you."

Harry hesitated for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, professor. I may be a good Seeker, but I'm no team captain. I have no idea of how to train a Quidditch team. I say give the captain's badge to Ron."

Ron goggled at him, and Harry had to fight down a grin as he remembered what Ron had seen in the magical mirror Erised in their first year - him as team captain. The right corner of McGonagall's mouth also quirked up a little, and without further ceremony she fished the captain's badge out of a pocket and fastened it on Ron's left breast.

"Congratulations, Mr Weasley," she said briskly. "You are the first captain in over twenty years who receive the badge after only his first year on the team." Then she gave him a dangerous look. "And I know you'll do a good job, right?"

Ron was still in a daze when they entered the Great Hall. The sorting hat had already finished its new song and was starting on the E's. Hermione had held of seats for Harry and Ron, while Katie parted company and sat down beside some friends.

"Well, what happened?" Hermione whispered as Ron and Harry sat down on each their sides of here. "What did she say? Are you in trouble already?"

"Relax, Hermione," Harry grinned. "Can't you see his badge? McGonagall just made him Quidditch captain!"

Hermione squealed in surprise and hugged him. "Oh, that's wonderful, Ron! Are you going to let Ginny try out as Chaser? She's been looking forward to it all summer."

"Try out?" Ron said, who finally seemed to have regained the ability to speak. "She's already on the team, like Harry. I'll just move her from Seeker position to Chaser."

Harry stopped listening to the conversation. Professor Flitwick, who were calling out the names of the first years instead of McGonagall this time, had just said a name Harry recognized: Mark Evans. He got a glimpse of the boy right before his face was hidden by the too large sorting hat, and sure enough; it was the boy that Dudley used to beat up back in Privet Drive. Harry smiled to himself. So he wasn't the only wizard in the neighbourhood. That was nice to know.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the sorting hat shouted, and Mark breathed out in relief as he handed it back to Flitwick. Eager to escape from having the attention of the entire Great Hall, he hurried over to the Gryffindor table and sank gratefully down into a vacant seat across the table from Harry.

"Hello, Mark," Harry grinned.

Mark looked confused for a moment, then his eyes narrowed in recognition. "You! But- Why are you here? I thought-"

"That I went to St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys?" Harry suggested amused. "No, that's just a cover story my uncle cooked up. I've been here every school year since I was your age."

"Oh," Mark said in a small voice. He seemed absolutely dumbfounded over discovering that the 'criminal Potter-boy' was actually a fellow wizard.

Ron suddenly elbowed Harry in the ribs. "Look at the teacher's table," he whispered. "See the new guy? Probably the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Harry followed Ron's gaze and saw a tall, broadshouldered man with his black hair swept back into a short ponytail. Despite the man's size Harry doubted there was even an ounce of superfluous fat on him. Yet, there was something with the mild expression in his face that would prevent even the most nervous first year of ever being intimidated by him.

"Oh, that's not good," Ron moaned. "Snape likes him!" Harry looked startled at the Potions teacher who was sitting there grinning - grinning! - at the newcomer. And it wasn't an unpleasant grin either, as one would expect from someone like Snape. Rather, it was a _friendly_ grin, and worse; he saw the new teacher smiling back!

"Really, Ron," Hermione interjected. "You shouldn't judge a new teacher just because Snape happens to like him."

But Harry silently thought that Ron was on to something. He had _never_ seen Snape smiling at anyone unless he was thinking of fining them points - and at the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor no less! It was common knowledge that Snape had wanted that job for years. That he was on friendly terms with someone who had snatched the job away from under his nose yet again had to be very bad news indeed.

Finally, 'Young, Roger' became a Ravenclaw and the Sorting was over. At the teacher's table Dumbledore rose and beamed at the assembled students. "To our new students; welcome to Hogwarts. To our old ones; welcome back. As I have said countless times before, there's a time for speechmaking and this is not it. Tuck in!"

On the other side of the table Mark's jaw dropped as food suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and then promptly went popeyed when Nearly Headless Nick floated through the floor and took a seat.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Mark," Harry said lightly.

III

After the feast Dumbledore rose to hold his usual speech. "Now that we have been watered and fed, there are a few things I have to bore you with before you can go to bed. First allow me to point out to our new first years that the Forbidden Forrest is indeed forbidden for students to enter unless accompanied by a teacher. A few of our old students would also do well to remember that." His eyes twinkled in their direction, and Harry, Ron and Hermione grinned shamefacedly at each other. "Second; I'm afraid that due to recent events you won't be allowed to go outside the castle except in groups of at least three. Trips to Hogsmeade have to be done in groups of four. And yes, this means only double dates are allowed." This caused a little chuckling among the students. "Finally, let me introduce our new teacher in Defence Against the Dark Arts; Professor Phelan Ravensdale."

There was polite applause from the students and Ravensdale waved back and smiled. Harry, Ron and Hermione, however, just stared at the man in shock. "Harry," Hermione whispered fiercely. "Didn't you say that the name of the werewolf you saw in Grimmauld Place was Phelan Ravensdale?"

"Yes," Harry said shakily. "It was."

From the teacher's table, Professor Ravensdale smiled secretly at him.

IIIII

**Author's notes: **First, let me apologize for the long wait in getting this chapter up. Real life has been very hectic as of late, and has left me with very little computer time. Now things are beginning to calm down a bit, and I'll try to get beck to the 'one-chapter-per-week' rule. Second, just so we are 100% clear on the subject of werewolves: This is the correct anatomy for the werewolves in _my_ fic.

**mjk306: **The Wolfsbane Potion turns Lupin into an ordinary wolf and prevents the extremely dangerous dementia that accompanies the transformation. It does not allow him to keep his human mind while transforming into a _werewolf_. And yes, Harry knows Snape is a spy. Harry was just so shocked at seeing a man with a Death Eater mask entering Grimmauld Place that he didn't immediately remember.

**Yugioh/Potter/Pokemon fan: **Yes, it'll be HarryCho... eventually.

**crab: **Evil? No... what makes you think that?

**joe: **When in werewolf form they look roughly the same. The only difference between them is that when in werewolf form Lupin will kill everything in sight, while the werewolf at Grimmauld Place doesn't.

**chris-warren876: **In some areas Harry is still an ordinary sixteen year old, yes, but in others he is mature beyond his years. Remember that he has almost been killed five times, and have seen people being murdered in front of his eyes twice. That must have changed him.


End file.
